The Differences Between Fantasy and Reality
by Jadiona
Summary: Set in an alternate universe where Bella has always lived in Forks. She is 17 when the Cullen family first moves to town. Set firmly in the world of reality, she doesn't truly believe that this new family could be anything other than human. She finds a soul mate in Edward, and eventually a star-crossed lover in Jacob. Are either enough to last forever? BxE then BxJ ends with BxM
1. Preface

**The Differences Between Fantasy and Reality**

 **Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her.

 **AN:** I have had this idea stuck in my head for awhile now and it won't be quiet so it will be written. Before anyone starts reading this story, I want everyone to be aware that it is not a Edward/Bella story, nor is it a Jacob/Bella story. Both Edward and Jacob will play roles in this story, and they will have their moment with Bella, but ultimately this is a story where Bella ends up choosing a far more healthier ending than she ever had in the original series (or most alternate realities that I've ever seen). It will have a happy ending though. This book will span through the books of Twilight and New Moon. I don't know yet if it will have a full 48 chapters (50 with prologue and epilogue), but it will be close. This story will be told entirely from Bella's perspective.

 **Preface**

His words were like a punch to my already broken chest. I'd thought my world had ended back on my birthday when the other _he_ had left, it turned out I had no idea what the world ending truly felt like, but now I did.

I'd trusted him, I'd let him rebuild me, let him in my life, let him in my heart even. If he had always planned on destroying me, then why couldn't he have left me alone?

I remembered now, I had _courted_ it, courted him, courted danger as the previous he used to say. In truth, it wasn't either of their faults that I was so ordinary, so unable to keep the attention of anyone that I ever loved.

I fell to my knees as my heart once again ceased to exist. This time, there would be no resurfacing.


	2. Chapter 1 - First Sight

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **AN:** In Twilight, Bella arrived in January of 2005, for the purpose of this story, it starts in about early October of 2004 which means she's been seventeen for about a month.

 **Chapter 1 – First Sight**

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was eighty-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a strange, cloudless blue, at least to me. In spite of spending the last two and a half months with my mother, I was used to the clouds. I was wearing my favorite shirt – a vintage long-sleeved sweatshirt with some odd logo on it from back in the seventies. It was a bit hot to be wearing, but I was ready to go home.

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington state, a small town named Forks exists under a near constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town with it's omnipresent shade that my mother had ran from when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd spent almost the entirety of my life, excepting one month every summer until I was fourteen. That was when I finally put my foot down, the three summers after I turned fourteen, my mom, Renee, had flown up to Seattle for two weeks instead.

This year had been different though, this year mom had gotten remarried. She had insisted that I be her maid of honor and had then insisted I go with her on their – two month long – honeymoon. So, for the last two and a half months, I have been with her. I'd missed the first month and a half of school because of her insistence.

It was to Forks that I now was to return – an action I was more than ready for. I'd been away from home for far too long.

I couldn't say I would miss Phoenix. Between the sun, the blistering heat, and the overpopulation, I truly detested Phoenix.

"Bella," my mom said to me – the last of a thousand times – before I got on the plane. "You know you could stay, Phoenix has some great schools with excellent classes."

My mom looked like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide childlike eyes. After these last two and a half months, I'd realized how much she needed a caretaker, almost as much as dad. Could I really leave my erratic, harebrained mother to fend for herself again? Of course, she had Phil now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in her refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still...

"Mom, I can't stay. Dad needs me, and besides, I prefer the weather there."

It was an idea that completely boggled my mother's mind. She'd worked so hard to escape the dreary weather of Washington, leaving behind her infant child in her desire to escape, but it was the truth. It was obvious because I was a worse liar than my mom and dad combined. "Tell Charlie I said hi."

"I will."

"I'll see you soon." She insisted, though we both knew it was a lie. It wouldn't be until summer, if she even bothered to come to Seattle next year. "You can come back to Phoenix whenever you want – I'll come whenever you need me."

She wouldn't though, she couldn't even come up to Forks for one lousy week back when I was twelve and desperately needed a mother. I still remembered talking to dad about my period because mom had forgot to pay her phone bill and didn't have service when I desperately needed her.

"Mom, I'll be fine. This isn't exactly new territory. You knew we'd have to part ways eventually." It wasn't like I could travel with Phil and her, as he was trying to get a new contract to play. I had to go to school.

She pinched her lips together as if she knew my line of thought. She probably did. I had always been an open book to her, in spite of how little time we spent together. "I'd stay here with you of course, if you want to stay."

"No, mom. Phil and you are _newlyweds_. Go. Do newlywed things."

She sighed before hugging me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane and was gone.

It's a four hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back to Forks. I was looking forward to seeing Charlie again, though I knew the ride home was going to be awkward, filled with stilted questions and long pauses.

Charlie hadn't been thrilled about the idea of me missing the first month and a half of school. Of course, I hadn't been too excited about it either, but mom had pulled out the ultimate trump card with us, reminding dad that she'd never argued about custody rights. We all knew that was because she knew she wasn't fit to truly raise a child, too inconsistent and, for the most part, unable to hold a job. Though she had surprised us all and managed to keep her substitute teaching career for three solid years now.

Still, Charlie had felt guilty, so he'd agreed to let me go with mom and go down to Panama for the honeymoon with them. When I'd left, he had reminded me that I had a choice, I could stay with her, I was smart enough to make it in school in Phoenix too. I'd told him that wouldn't happen. He knew I never stayed with mom.

When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. It was a promising sight, I was almost home.

Charlie was waiting for me with the Cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie was Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks, and he'd never bothered to buy his own vehicle when he could just use the cruiser. I promised myself that, this year, I was getting myself a vehicle so I didn't have to be toted around in a car with red and blue lights on top anymore. He hadn't wanted me to have one last year, money was one reason, the other being that he said sixteen was too young to own a car. I was seventeen now though. He couldn't give that argument again.

Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled off the plane. I returned the hug, mine was even more awkward than his, and we both looked away from each other, muttering our hellos to each other.

When we got to his cruiser, we put my luggage into the trunk. Then he started to ask the stilted questions that I knew were coming. They always came after I returned from visiting mom. He still was in love with mom after all.

"You didn't burn from all that sun, that's good. How's Renee?"

"Mom's fine. Have you been eating alright?" When I'd left, I had left two weeks worth of pre-made meals in the fridge and freezer with instruction on each on how long to heat them, but I had known those would have run out some time ago. There was only so much room in the refrigerator, and the freezer out back was reserved for fish, so I hadn't been able to stock more meals out there.

"Fine, I can fend for myself you know."

"Really, then what did you have for supper last night?"

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath which told me all I needed to know, steak and potatoes at the lodge, I was sure.

I still wanted to hear him say it though. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I ate at the lodge, I even had a salad." I rolled my eyes, like a salad would make up for all that bad cholesterol, but he continued. "I did make eggs for breakfast yesterday."

Eggs being the only thing edible my dad cooked, I rolled my eyes again. He was good at burning water though, so was mom for that matter. We lapsed into a lull of silence and we were past the west end of Lake Crescent before he spoke again.

"I found a good car for you, really cheap."

"What kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good car for _you_ " as opposed to just "good car."

"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."

"Where did you find it?"

"Well... it's Billy Black's actually. The pick up he used to drive before he became handicapped." Billy Black was an old family friend along with his three kids Rebecca, Rachel and Jacob. Rebecca and Rachel had actually graduated at the end of my freshman year. Rachel had moved to Seattle where she was currently going to school at the university, while Rebecca had moved to Hawaii and met a Samoan fisherman named Solomon. Jacob on the other hand was a year younger than me and still lived with his dad in La Push, the tiny Indian reservation on the coast.

I screwed my mouth up in horror, remembering all the conversations with Jacob about the truck that I now knew my dad was talking about.

Charlie continued when I didn't reply. "As you know, since he's in a wheelchair, he doesn't have a usage for it anymore. Besides, Jacob has been working on that rabbit for years, and his dad offered to split the money so Jacob could get some of the harder to find parts."

I could translate what wasn't being said. Jacob was horrified at the idea of inheriting that vehicle and so he would do anything to get rid of it, including convincing his dad to pawn it off on his unsuspecting pale face friends.

"You want me to buy the _dinosaur_?" I used Jacob's nickname for the truck.

"It isn't a dinosaur," Charlie said gruffly.

"How old is it, again?" I couldn't remember what Jacob had told me.

"Well, Billy and Jacob have done a lot of work to the engine – it's only a few years old, really."

That didn't answer my question. "When did he buy it?"

"He bought it in 1984, I think."

I knew it was older than that. I didn't know a lot about vehicles, but even I knew the rounded cab was older than the eighties. "Did he buy it new?"

Charlie's face screwed up like he bit a sour lemon. I almost grinned, knowing that I asked the right question this time. "Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties.." He paused, muttering much quieter. "Or late fifties at the earliest."

" _Dad_ , I don't really know anything about cars. I wouldn't be able to fix it if something went wrong, and we couldn't really afford to take it to Dowling's..."

His face screwed up again at the mention of Dowling. I knew the local mechanic wasn't my dad's favorite person. In fact, if Dad wasn't muttering about something that people in the city were doing wrong then he was usually muttering about how overpriced Dowling was. "Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."

 _The thing_ , I thought to myself...it had possibilities – as a nickname, at the very least. It was better than the dinosaur.

"Besides, Jacob will help you do oil changes and such."

I snorted, it was so typically Jacob. "How cheap is cheap?" I had a limited amount of money saved up to buy it with. I couldn't go over and I wasn't going to have my dad dipping into his retirement fund for me.

"Well, I kind of already bought it for you. Think of it as a belated birthday gift. I couldn't exactly give it to you while you were down in Panama after all." Charlie peaked sideways at me with a hopeful expression.

I groaned. He'd already dipped into his retirement fund.

"You shouldn't have done that, dad. I was going to buy myself a car. You know I have a little bit of money saved up."

"You're going to need that money for gas," he muttered surreptitiously.

I groaned again.

"Besides, I wanted to get you something special for your birthday. It isn't a vacation in Panama, but you deserve it." He was looking straight ahead as he said that. Charlie wasn't comfortable expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him. So I was looking straight ahead too as I responded.

"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that I'd have rather gotten the still broken down rabbit. It was the thought that counted after all. Besides, I wasn't going to look a free truck in the mouth–err, engine.

"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.

The rest of the drive passed in silence, though I caught my dad open his mouth to speak several times, likely to ask more questions about mom. He never did ask them. I could almost hear his internal monologue, wanting to know if she was happy, if she wanted to come home, etc. I'd heard them all, over the years. It was inappropriate now though, what with her being married and all.

We stared out the window in silence as he continued to drive. It was beautiful, so much lush green, from the trees, to the moss, to the ferns on the ground. It was where I'd grown up.

Eventually we made it home. We lived in a small, two-bedroom house that he'd owned since the early days of his marriage to my mom. Those were the only day their marriage had – the early ones. There, parked on the street in front of the house was my truck. It was faded red, with big, rounded fenders, and a bulbous cab. I'd seen it many times in La Push, and had always secretly loved the body, but still, I could practically see the gas gauge going down, and it wasn't even running.

The best thing about it was that it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged – the kind you see at the scene of an accident, paint unscathed, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed.

"Thanks dad." Now I could start tomorrow by driving rather than walking, as I'd done the vast majority of my life. Occasionally I'd let my dad drive me to school over the years, usually after spraining an ankle, or breaking a wrist, or any of the other numerous injuries I'd gotten over my seventeen years of life. I had tried to walk as much as possible though, less embarrassing than being ridden around in a cop car.

"I'm glad you like it," Charlie said gruffly.

It took only one trip to get my luggage upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. I opened the door, half expecting to see the man cave that Charlie had threatened to turn it into when I left two and a half months ago, but it was the same as always of course. Over the years my room had gone through many paint jobs, from the white it had been when I was born, to the pea green I'd insisted that I loved when I was three, to lavender, peach, and then yellow, and now the light blue that I'd painted it just last year. If you looked in the corners and around the door frame and window frame, you could still see specks of the previous colors. My room had a hard wood floor and a peaked ceiling. On the window were old lace curtains, yellowed from age, originally hand done by my grandmother, Helen, who had died only a few years after I was born. In the corner was a rocking chair that had been in my room from the time I was born, even when Charlie had suggested we move it elsewhere to make room for a larger desk or a second dresser, I'd refused.

I had one, five drawer dresser, that was probably older than this house, and a desk that I legitimately suspected had been a vanity at one time. On the desk was the computer my dad bought me five years ago. I was going to need a new one soon, but I was loathe to bring it up, just another added expense we couldn't really afford.

My bed, which had changed almost as often as the paint, took up the vast majority of my room. I couldn't remember it, but I had seen the pictures, so I knew at one time there had been a crib in this room, my crib. When I was about four I had gotten a bunk bed, I'd had many sleepovers with it, mostly with Rebecca and Rachel, and even Jacob from time to time, back before it became inappropriate. Later I'd switched to a normal twin size, and then a full a couple years later. Finally when I'd started high school I'd gotten a queen size, it was what I still had now. The bed had a tasteful coverlet on it in a dark purple with flowers around the edge.

I dropped my luggage on the floor, intent to unpack it later, it wasn't like most of what my mom had bought me in Panama could be used up here anyways, lingerie and skimpy bikinis, I'd had no need for it even there, but mom hadn't listened.

Our house had only one small bathroom, located at the end of the hall, a fact that had much aggrieved me for far too many years. Still, we made it work.

After the end of last year, including the freshmen coming up from the middle school, Forks High School was supposed to have a total of three hundred fifty three students this year. I was sure the number had changed by now though, people moving in last minute or leaving, it happened every year that way.

I headed downstairs to fix food, I would check my emails before I went to bed. I was sure that at least Angela had emailed me while I'd been away, though I highly doubted Jessica had bothered. We both knew she only tolerated my presence while in school because I was the chief's daughter.

I looked in the freezer to see what I could find, knowing the fridge hadn't been stocked, I didn't even have to check. If I wasn't here, it didn't get stocked, probably for the best anyways. I could practically see the kitchen exploding if Charlie tried to actually cook something.

I pulled out a chunk of frozen hamburger and another of sausage. I knew there were noodles and sauce in the cabinet.

"Hey, dad, we're having spaghetti and meatballs tonight," I shouted over the sound of the tv. Dad was watching football, I scrunched my nose in disgust. "Sports," I muttered under my breath, the word an expletive.

Dinner was ready soon enough and I brought out the dishes to the living room so we could eat. It was pretty much the only way for us to share a meal during a game.

"Tastes great, Bells," dad said after eating a few bites.

"So, are you going fishing with Billy this weekend?"

"No," Charlie grunted. "We're not talking at the moment."

I arched an eyebrow. "Are you two old women fighting?"

Charlie glared at me. "His superstitions are insane."

"What happened?"

"We have a new family in Forks, they moved in a couple days after you left to visit you mom. Dr Cullen filled the position of Dr Brown. Dr Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here." Charlie was really worked up by then, and I sat back, knowing he'd continue until he was done. "We're lucky to have him – lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community. They have five kids, all adopted, three sophomores and two freshmen, all of them far better behaved than any of the locals kids that have grown up here their whole lives. I'm sure you'll meet them tomorrow at school.

"Well, Billy." he spat his best friend's name. "Came here a couple weeks ago with Jacob spouting a whole bunch bullshit superstitions about how the Cullen family are dangerous and I need to force them to leave town. He claimed they were cold ones or some such shit. Like a vampire would be working in a hospital." Charlie snorted. "Jacob was horrified by his dad, of course."

Vampires, really? "Maybe Billy has been smoking a bit too much Peyote?" I suggested helpfully.

"Clearly."

"I doubt I'll get to meet any of the kids though, dad. I'm older than them so we probably won't share any classes."

"Well, don't be a stranger to them, Bells."

I grimaced, he knew I didn't like forcing myself on people.

"Oh, speaking of kids, Tyler has called five times this week. You told me you broke up with him."

I grimaced again, I should've seen that coming. "I did."

. . .

I didn't actually get around to checking my emails that night, instead I fell asleep as soon as I went to bed.

Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning. I sighed. This would be an interesting day to start driving myself to school.

Breakfast with Charlie was the usual quiet affair. I was eating eggs with him, no milk to fix a bowl of fruit loops like I normally ate, I'd definitely have to shop before coming back from school tonight. He wished me good luck at school and I just eyed him, he knew me better than that. _I_ didn't have good luck, unless you counted being able to trip on flat surfaces as good luck...

Charlie left first, off to the police station that was more his life than his job. After he left, I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and looked around the small kitchen. It was one of the rooms that hadn't been changed much over the years. It was too much work to remove all the food so I could paint it, so it was still the same dark paneling that it had been when dad had bought the place. It was also too much work to replace the cabinets, so they were the same ugly yellow they'd always been. Maybe next time I got to Port Angeles, I'd check the hardware store out to see if I could pick up some paint that could be used around food.

I got up, glancing at the fireplace in the living room as I headed to the door. Atop the fireplace were all pictures of me, one at a science fair when I was seven, another of a piano recital when I was five, and several others including one of me on a horse when I was thirteen – I winced, remembering how that disaster had ended. At one time they had been pictures of my mom and dad at their wedding and on their honeymoon and such, but over the years, they'd all been replaced with pictures of me. I knew that me being in dad's life had replaced a lot of the pain for him when mom had walked out all those years prior.

I donned my jacket and headed out into the rain.

It was just drizzling as I used the key hidden under the eaves to the lock the door before I headed to my truck. I stopped and looked at my truck for a moment, I knew I shouldn't like it, not after all that Jacob had complained about it, but I did. The truck had found a special place in my heart already and I hadn't even drove it yet.

Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Someone had spent sometime cleaning the inside, even though I could still smell Billy's tobacco and peppermint. The engine started without trouble, to my relief, not that I had any reason to doubt Jake's skills. Unfortunately, the truck was quite loud and my first reaction was to place my hands over my ears before I forced myself to grab the steering wheel. Music was coming over the speakers. The antique radio still worked, that was a plus I hadn't expected.

Sighing, I headed to school and drove around to the back, parking in the space right next to Angela's SUV, one of only a few vehicles in the lot so far.

I got out and walked back around to the front of school, heading to the front office to pick up my schedule for the year. I'd missed registration day thanks to the wedding, so I wondered what I'd been placed in for my two electives.

I opened the door and stepped in, Mrs. Cope looked up immediately. "Hello Bella, back from Panama?"

The only major problem of a small town, everyone knew everyone else's business. "Yeah, do you have my schedule?"

She ruffled around under the desk before pulling out some papers. "Here's your schedule. You'll also need to take this paper to every teacher and have them sign it as confirmation that you have all the back work you've missed by being gone for the first six weeks."

I grimaced, but took the papers she offered, looking at my schedule. Eight periods as always, eighth was gym, my grimace got more defined. There were five periods before lunch and three after, period four was art and six was film studies, my two electives. I wouldn't have selected either if I'd been here to get a vote.

"Thanks Mrs. Cope." I headed back out, going towards building 3 automatically, muscle memory taking me to the English building, my first class of the day.

I started to head inside but stopped and gawked as two girls I'd never seen before walked by, heading in the general direction of building 5. One was a short stick of a thing, maybe five foot tall, with spiky black hair and pitch black eyes. The other was a polar opposite, bordering on six feet tall with long golden blond hair, her eyes too, were black. They had to be some of the Cullen family, but they both looked older than the freshmen or sophomores they supposedly were.

Finally I shook myself out of my stupor and headed inside, going immediately to Mr. Mason's desk and handing him my paper. "Ms. Swan, glad you made it home in one piece." He signed the paper and promptly handed me a four inch thick stack of papers. "Your homework."

I went to the back of the room and took a seat, starting to work on my past due homework, even as Mr Mason droned on about today's studies.

The bell finally rang, signaling the end of class and I picked up my stuff to head out as Eric came over to me. "So what did you get stuck with for second period?"

I'd known Eric since kindergarten, when I'd been partnered with him for our valentines day project. We never had got our paper heart finished. Even back then he'd been _too helpful._ "I'm in Government with Mr. Jefferson."

We both rolled our eyes at that and he groaned. "Good luck with that. I got lucky and got World History this semester with Mrs. Partridge. Of course, that means Government next semester, but that would be next semester's problem."

I snickered. "We'll talk more at lunch, I'm sure." I headed out and went towards building six.

Period three was trigonometry with Mr. Varner, four was art with Ms. Eckhart, and fifth was spanish with Mrs. Goff. By the end of fifth I'd been able to say hello to Mike, Angela, Jessica, and Ben, luckily I still hadn't spotted Tyler or Lauren – the bane of my existence. I also had a thirteen inch thick stack of past due homework.

I raced out to my truck to dump all my past due homework in the cab before I headed to the cafeteria. I grabbed a small lunch of a sandwich and an apple before heading to the usual table with the usual suspects. Eric, Angela, Jessica, Mike, Ben, Conner, Lauren and Tyler. I took the seat next to Tyler, not because I wanted to, but because it was the only one left open.

Tyler leaned over to me and kissed the top of my head, I shoved him back, his chair toppling over from the force. "No Tyler, I told you we were through before I headed off to visit Renee."

He got up and righted his chair, not even taking the hint. "Of course you did, baby. You couldn't expect me to be celibate for an entire two and a half months while you were away." He did a little hip pump thing before sitting back down.

Jessica facepalmed from where she was sitting. I silently agreed with her.

"Tyler, honey." The word honey was sarcastic. "If you're not celibate then we both know it was never with me." In fact, in two years of dating, we'd never even kissed.

"Ooh, burn," Eric said.

Tyler looked mortified and immediately got back up, excusing himself from the table and heading out of the cafeteria.

I took the momentary lull to look around, spotting the new family at a corner table almost immediately. All the tables surrounding them were empty, as if their very presence repelled people. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of uneaten food in front of them. There were five of them total, just as Charlie said.

They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big – muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they should be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.

The girls were the same two that I'd noticed earlier, and now I got to analyze a little more. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the _Sports Illustrated_ swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixie-like, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.

And yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living here. Paler than me, which was a new one. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes – purplish, bruiselike shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular.

But all this was not why I couldn't look away.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful – maybe the perfect blond girl, or the bronze-haired boy.

They were all looking away – away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray – unopened soda, unbitten apple – and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer's steps, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging.

"Who are _they_?" I asked, directing my question at Jessica, knowing she'd take the bait, nodding my head toward the table in the corner.

I glanced that way again just as the bronze-haired one looked up suddenly at my neighbor, almost as if he'd heard his name. He immediately looked away again, but it was strange.

"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with the new Dr. Cullen and his wife." Jessica explained under her breath.

I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them. All of their names were old and outdated, it was strange.

"They are … very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed with a giggle, becoming even more animated. "They're all _together_ though – Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they _live_ together." Her voice held her typical shock and condemnation for anything that was the least bit different. Though, even I had to admit, it was a bit strange.

"Which ones have the last name of Cullen?" I asked.

"Well, Jasper and Rosalie Hale are the two blonds – they're twins. That's probably easier to explain."

"My dad told me a little bit about the family last night. Which ones are in which grade?"

"The one that left and Edward are the freshmen, the other three are the sophomores."

Unfortunately, I still didn't know which one was Edward. "And the one with the reddish brown hair, is he Edward?" I peeked at him from the corner of my eye as I asked and he was staring at me with a slightly frustrated expression. I couldn't imagine why so I looked down again.

"Yes, that's him. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are appealing enough for him." I forced myself not to roll my eyes, she'd probably asked him on his first day.

"I thought you didn't date younger guys?"

"Yeah, well, _look_ at him. You can't tell me you wouldn't hit that."

This time I did roll my eyes. I looked back towards their table and his face was turned away but it looked like he was smiling.

After a few more minutes, the four of them left their table together. They all were noticeably graceful – even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again.

I sat with my friends for a few more minutes, even though I didn't want to be late to class. Angela asked what class I had next. When I told her it was the horrid film studies, she smiled, explaining it was what everyone got placed in that didn't make it to registration this year, including her.

She walked with me to class, heading to her seat as I went to the front desk to get my past due homework from Mr. Berty. He signed the slip and handed me another two inches of homework to add to the thirteen I had waiting in the truck. "You can sit next to Edward, it's the only seat left."

I turned to look for him, I hadn't noticed him when I walked in, but this was a pleasant surprise. I'd get to know the beautiful bronze-haired boy. I spotted him about two seats from the back and started to head that way when Samantha Wells raced in from the outside, muttering a quick apology. The blast of air from the door caused my hair to blow everywhere.

In front of me, Edward suddenly went rigid and looked up to glare at me. His expression was murderous, filled with hostility and rage. I looked away quickly, shocked, my face going red.

From there I kept my eyes down and I went to sit beside him, not understanding the glare that I could still feel on me.

I didn't look up as I set my things on my desk and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face as if he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like strawberries, the scent of my favorite shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odor. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.

Mr. Berty made a point of advising me, and the entire class, that they were halfway through the 1933 version of King Kong and I'd have to watch the full movie at home to understand it completely.

I couldn't stop myself from peaking at Edward from under the screen protection of my hair. He was still in the same stiff position on the edge of his chair as he'd been before, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly brother.

As the teacher turned the lights off and the movie on, there was a pressure between us, an almost imperceptible buzzing. I had the strangest desire to lean into him and I didn't understand it. I could see that he leaned even farther away from me out of the corner of my eye. Throughout the entire class, the pressure only got worse.

Finally, a couple of minutes before the end of class, Mr. Berty paused the movie and flipped the lights back on.

I peeked up at him one more time, and instantly regretted it. He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from him, shrinking against my chair, the phrase _if looks could kill_ suddenly ran through my mind.

At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose – he was much taller than I'd thought – his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn't fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.

Slowly I got up and headed to seventh period which was biology II with Mr. Banner. I got my next three inches of homework from him and took a seat in front of Mike Newton, ending up partnered with Ashley Dowling.

We did a lab about onion root, we'd done one on whitefish blastula last year in biology I and it was far too easy, at least for me. Ashley, on the other hand, struggled to identify the two remaining slides that I didn't do.

After the end of class I walked with Mike to gym, my last period of the day.

The good news was, with gym, there wasn't anymore homework to add to the stack of eighteen inches that I now had, but Coach Clapp gave me a vocal dressing down before sending to get dressed and run laps, while everyone else was doing volleyball.

I was exhausted by the end of class and wearily trudged back to the front office to give Mrs. Cope the sheet with all the signatures.

When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out.

Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.

He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade sixth hour film studies for any other elective, or even a study hall – we didn't do study hall here.

I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the classroom. The look on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me.

The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face. June came in and merely stepped up to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he turned slowly to glare at me – his face was absurdly handsome – with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.

"Never mind, then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help."

He turned on his heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.

I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.

"How did your first day back go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally.

"Fine," I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced.

When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot, I dumped the rest of my papers with my original pile and climbed in. It seemed like a haven from the boy I didn't even know. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. I headed back to Charlie's house, fighting tears the whole way there.


	3. Chapter 2 - Open Book

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **AN:** If anyone has read The Official Illustrated Guide then you probably know that Mike moved to Forks when he was ten, and Jessica sometime as a young child. I am trying to keep stuff like that as close to the original book as possible, but for the purposes of this book, Mike moved to Forks when he was around six, and Jessica when she was eight. I have many reasons for this, most of all because I'm creating back stories in my mind for how long Bella has known each of them (same with the people in La Push), how they met, the relationships, etc. Some of the back stories you will get to read bits and pieces of, but if you really want to know the relationship Bella has with a specific character then you can pm me or submit a review (as long as you aren't anonymous).

 **Chapter 2 – Open Book**

I ended up having to go to the store after I went home because I forgot to do it in all my anger. I got all the essentials to restock the fridge so I could once again make food for Charlie and myself. As I drove back towards home and stopped at a stop sign I happened to look in the hospital parking lot and saw two brand new cars parked side by side, a glossy black Mercedes that I was sure Jacob would crow about if he was here, and a silver Volvo.

They were strange to see, at least in this town, where somebody having a ten year old Mustang was considered high class. I wondered if one of the cars was owned by the new Dr. Cullen. I started to let my foot off the brake peddle, knowing I was sitting still for far too long, when Edward came out of one of the hospital doors – moving like the bats of hell were after him. He went straight to the Mercedes and got in.

I shook my head and stepped on the gas, rumbling past and continuing home.

. . .

The next day was better … and worse.

It was better because it wasn't raining, something that almost never happened in this small town.

It was worse because I was tired. I hadn't been able to sleep well, tossing and turning as I had nightmare after nightmare of Edward donning a shiny black cape with a blood red lining and turning into Count Dracula, of his face aging as the cape became a matte black and he became Viktor from Underworld, and finally as he donned a gray coat, his skin changing colors and he became Eric from Blade. I'd woke up screaming at six am. Charlie had already left for the day, needing to help out a neighboring county with an animal problem. I'd had to splash water on my face and promised myself to not watch anymore vampire movies until long after I forgot what Charlie had told me about Billy's stupid superstitions, which I knew that was all they were. There was no such thing as vampires. Edward was just a jerk, that was all there was to it.

It was better because I got to watch Lauren trip and fall face first into Tyler's groin in second period government. They'd both been sent to the principal by Mr. Jefferson for misconduct. I'd had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing at the sight, the two deserved each other.

It was worse because I got called on by Mr. Varner in trigonometry even though he knew there was no possible way I was caught up yet. I wasn't surprised when I got the answer wrong.

It was better because Jessica, Angela and I made plans to go to the Goldmeyer Hot Springs in North Bend the coming weekend. We hadn't been in three years, not since we'd went with Jessica's older sister, Marianne. Marianne had graduated from Forks when we'd all still been in eighth grade. We'd gone with her for a spa day right before she moved back to Texas where their family was originally from. She hadn't been back since.

It was worse because the coach made me play volleyball even though he and I both knew that it was a bad idea. I sideswiped Jennifer Ford purely by accident within five minutes of playing, by the time ten minutes was up, I was being sent to the nurse's office with a bloody nose from the volleyball and my face meeting each other.

And it was worse because Edward Cullen wasn't in school today. I wasn't sure why that mattered so much to me.

All through the morning I'd been dreading lunch, worrying that I'd be hit with another one of his death glares. Part of me wanted to confront him, to demand to know what his problem was. After I'd woke up screaming, I'd even imagined what I'd say to him. But I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to do it. My pacifist nature made a mouse look like the hulk.

As it turned out, I shouldn't have worried, because when I walked in to the cafeteria at lunch and glanced at the corner table, they were all there – all except Edward that was. Edward was no where to be found. As with yesterday, the Cullen family sat together, all looking nowhere and all with untouched trays of food. Did they not like our lunches? I knew our school wasn't the Ritz, but it wasn't bad either, our food was closer to college food than most high schools, which tended to serve the equivalent of pig slop.

I was relatively certain by the time that I went to Film Studies that he wouldn't be there either. I was correct in my assumption and Angela ended up coming over and taking the seat that Edward had used yesterday, at least until Mr. Berty came in and gave her a glare that was almost as bad as the one I'd received from _him_ yesterday.

After the bell rang for the day, and I was heading from the nurse's office to my truck, Mike caught up with me.

"Hey Bella."

"Mike," I said, not bothering to say hello. I didn't know why, but I felt like I was being cornered. We shared four of our eight classes and we'd sat together at lunch, if he'd wanted to talk, he could have done it at any of those times.

"So... you and Tyler, you're done right?"

"Yes." My answer was sharp, I knew where this was going now, I was sure.

"Well, I was wondering, would you possibly like to go out with me some night?"

"Mike," I groaned. "No, I can't do it, not with you. I love you, Mike. I really do, but like a brother. I will _never_ be able to see you as anything else."

"You were able to date Tyler," he said petulantly.

"Yes, and for two years it was like I was dating my brother. I won't do it again. I've known all of you since kindergarten – well, first grade in your case. We all used to play at the park, go to La Push and make sand castles, and even sleep in the same beds. For crying out loud, I even remember when you and I used to eat from the same ice cream cones."

"Yeah right, that's why you two dated for two whole years, because you thought of him as a brother." He snorted.

"Mike," I said, my voice patronizing. "In two years we never even kissed, in fact, I can count the number of times we _hugged_ while on dates on my two hands. All of our dates were platonic. It would be the same for us, and you deserve better than that. Hell, _I_ deserve better than that."

"Would you say that if it was Eric asking?"

I barely managed to keep myself from gagging at the thought of dating Eric. "Yes, as it would be for Ben, Lee, Conner, Austin, D.J., or Rob." I listed off all of the males that we both tended to hang out with, though I could have kept going if I'd wanted. In a school of three hundred and fifty, it was difficult to not know everyone. "For that matter, it would be the same for Angela or Jessica – not that I'm saying I swing that way."

"Then why'd you mention them?"

"To prevent you from asking."

"Fine Bella, I'll give you some time to heal from your breakup," he said, studiously ignoring everything I'd just told him. "We'll have the Winter Ball soon enough."

He trotted off as I stood there doing my best fish face impression. Finally I mentally smacked myself hard enough to shout, "No, we won't."

He just waved without turning around. I knew I was going to have to tell him no again. I knew Mike. Shaking my head, I sighed and got into my truck.

I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the loud noise as I backed carefully into a place in the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. As I waited, I saw the Cullen family get into their Volvo. I'd already figured out they were rich, it was how the world seemed to always work – money, looks, and power. It didn't seem to buy them any acceptance though, at least not here.

No, I knew better than that. I knew that if, given half an opportunity, both Lauren and Jessica would be all over that family – and more specifically, Edward. They were both gold diggers as far as I was concerned. The isolation around the Cullen family must be their desire; I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be opened by that degree of beauty.

Charlie arrived home before me as his car was already parked in the drive. As I walked in he shouted from the living room, "Bella, we got mail today. It's on the kitchen table."

That was strange, Charlie didn't usually get excited about mail. I headed into the kitchen, picking up the fancy embossed envelope that was address to _Charlie and Isabella Swan_. I opened it up and pulled out a foil lined card. I unfolded the card and on the inside were the big, bold words:

 _You're Invited  
To The Wedding Of_

 _Samuel Uley  
and  
Leah Clearwater_

 _Son of Joshua and Allison Uley  
Daughter of Harry and Sue Clearwater_

 _January 5th, 2005 at 11:00 AM  
To be held on the La Push beach._

I'd known it had to be coming eventually, they'd been engaged since she was a junior in high school. I guess they'd finally decided to take the plunge now that Leah had officially graduated.

"I guess we know what we'll be doing right after the new year," I yelled into the living room. I pulled a package of chicken out of the fridge. "We're having baked chicken."

"Sounds good, Bells."

Once I finished getting everything in the oven to cook, I headed upstairs to check my emails.

My mother had managed to send ten emails in the two days since I'd left her. Meanwhile, the two and a half months before only had a total of five pertinent emails, all from Angela. Charlie hadn't emailed me once while I'd been with mom. Of course, my dad was a simple man who barely knew how to use a computer and he also knew I wouldn't have internet access, so it made sense.

I started out reading Angela's emails, each one was lengthy, an essay in itself. If I'd been here when she'd decided to write them I would have told her she didn't need to write so much, not that she ever listened. Each of her emails told me about everything I'd missed while I was away, letting me know about the shopping trips she went on with Jessica and Lauren – the ones I wouldn't have went on even if I'd been here. She also wrote about the twins' birthday party, about how all her cousins turned out for it.

It wasn't until the third email that it got a little more interesting. They went surfing the weekend after school started and ran into some of the Quileutes including Jacob who was apparently dating Jessica Avery now, another Quileute, one who I had spent close to no time with. I didn't know why, but I felt a twinge of anxiety upon discovering that Jacob was dating. I couldn't be jealous, he was nothing more than a little brother to me. It had to be my maternal instincts kicking in or something along those lines.

After I finished reading Angela's emails I sent back a quick reply to her:

 _Angela, you know you don't need perfect grammar in emails. You also don't need to write essays._

Next were mom's emails, which were a lot shorter than Angela's emails, but were a lot harder to read.

 _Oct 4, 2004, 3:35 pm – Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how you flight was. Is it raining? I miss you already. I'm almost finished packing for Florida. I can't find my pink blouse though. Do you know where I put it? I know I wore it several times in Panama. Phil says hi. Mom_

 _Oct 4, 2004, 4:10 pm – Why haven't you emailed me yet?What are you waiting for? Mom_

At the time of the first two emails, I hadn't even landed in Seattle yet. I shook my head and kept reading.

 _Oct 4, 2004, 8:07 pm – Phil reminded me of the flight time. Sorry. I need to know you got home safe, honey. Let me know. Mom_

 _Oct 4, 2004, 11:21 pm – Did you forget where your computer is? Let me know you got home safe. Mom_

 _Oct 5, 2004, 7:09 am – Are you trying to punish me for asking you to stay so much? I need to know something didn't happen to you. Mom_

 _Oct 5, 2004, 7:12 am – I also still need to know if you know where I put that blouse. And my pencil skirt. I can't find either. Mom_

 _Oct 5, 2004, 11:43 am – Are you in school? Why aren't you replying? Mom_

 _Oct 5, 2004, 2:56 pm – I'm starting to freak out here. I've been checking the news and stuff, but I haven't seen anything about any airplane crashes. Honestly, not even your luck could be that bad. But what else am I supposed to think? LET ME KNOW YOU'RE ALRIGHT. Mom_

 _Oct, 5, 2004, 6:33 pm – Do I need to call Charlie? Seriously, talk to me. Mom_

And yet, for all her concern, which became more and more evident with every email, she hadn't called. I wasn't surprised. If things were awkward between Charlie and I when we talked about mom, then things were downright disturbing when Charlie and mom actually talked to each other.

Charlie still loved mom, and frankly mom... didn't. On top of that though, Charlie could never quite forgive mom for walking out in the middle of the night with nigh a word. He'd been called away at a domestic disturbance when she'd packed her bags and left, leaving me alone in the crib upstairs. All she left by way of explanation was a single sticky note with the words _"Just let me go, Charlie."_ on it. That was it.

I'd been home alone for hours by the time he returned, not that I remembered any of it.

I finally opened the tenth, and most recent, email from Renee.

 _Oct 6, 2004, 12:24 pm – Isabella, If I haven't heard from you by 5:30 pm today I'm calling Charlie._

I checked the clock, I still had an hour. But mom was well known for jumping the gun, and dad didn't need that headache.

I hit reply and started typing.

 _Mom, calm down. I'm writing right now. Don't do anything rash. Bella_

Like calling dad, not that I wrote that. I hit send and opened a second email up.

 _Mom. Everything is great. Of course it's raining, you shouldn't expect anything differently. It's Forks. I have a giant stack of homework from all the school I missed that I should be working on even now, so please calm down. Everything is fine.  
Your blouse and skirt is at the dry cleaners. You were supposed to pick them up yesterday.  
Charlie bought me Billy's old truck. I know it's almost half a century old, but I love it. It's also really sturdy, which is good. At least for me.  
_ _I miss you, too. I'll write again soon. But I'm not going to check my email every five minutes. Relax. Breathe. I love you.  
_ _Bella_

By the time I finished emailing her, Angela had replied to my email, for once, it was actually short.

 _Bella,  
You know I like being proper. Besides, how else would you catch up on all that you missed?  
Angela_

I rolled my eyes and quickly replied.

 _I'd ask Jessica_

I turned off my monitor and started working on my homework while I waited on the timer to go off downstairs. When the oven bell finally went off, I ran downstairs and fixed up the plates for supper. I glanced in the living room, checking to see what Dad was watching before placing the plates on our tiny table.

He was watching the news, he'd come. "Dinner's ready," I yelled.

I heard him harrumph as he turned off the tv and came in to eat, sitting down in his preferred chair.

"Smells good, Bell."

"Thanks."

We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't uncomfortable. Neither of us was bothered by the quiet. We lived together in decent harmony, always had. Even as a little girl, I'd never been the rambunctious type.

"So, how has school been going? You getting caught up? How are your friends?" he asked as he got up to fix a plate with seconds.

"It's school, Dad. You know that. Jessica, Angela and I have made plans to go to Goldmeyer Hot Springs next weekend, get pampered a little. They haven't said anything yet, but I think they're actually hoping to go shopping for gowns. Winter ball is only two months away." I rolled my eyes. I wasn't in to dances, fancy designer clothes, or any of that. But they were. "As for the homework... ask me in a month."

"North Bend will be good for you. You really should get some new clothes for you for this school year. I know you didn't get a chance to before you went to your mom's wedding and all. And Tyler, did you get that cleared up?"

"If shoving him out of his chair and embarrassing him publicly didn't make him take the hint then I don't know what will."

"And the rest?"

And because I knew my dad so well, I knew he wasn't asking for gossip on how I ended my relationship. He trusted me to handle myself. "I'm sure we'll all make plans to go to La Push soon, then I'll get a chance to really talk to some of them, school isn't exactly the best place to catch up, you know." I paused briefly, my face turning beet red as I contemplated what I was about to say, but saying it anyways, "Mike wants to get into my pants."

Charlie choked on the bite he just swallowed, coughing several times before replying. "I'm sure I could put a stop to that." There was a hint of steel in his voice that he usually only reserved for criminals.

"Don't worry, dad. I don't see him that way, he's like a brother to me."

"And the Cullen family, have you got to talk to them yet?"

I swallowed. This was the topic I'd been dreading. "Not really, dad. They seem to repel association with others. They stick to themselves, sitting in a corner at the cafeteria, there's a wide berth of tables between them and everyone else. It isn't randomly like that."

"Hmmm." It was his only response.

It was enough to know I was treading water. I backtracked. "I do share class with one of them, Edward. He wasn't at school today though. Generally, they seem to be nice enough, they just like to keep to themselves. There's nothing wrong with that." I paused before adding. "They are all very attractive."

"You should see the doctor," Charlie said, laughing. "It's a good thing he's happily married. A lot of the nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around."

We lapsed back into silence as we finished eating. He cleared the table while I started on the dishes. He went back to the tv, and after I finished washing the dishes by hand I went upstairs unwillingly to work on more of my homework.

By the time night had truly fell, I was exhausted and fell asleep quickly.

. . .

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes.

By Friday, I'd almost forgotten my disastrous first meeting with the new kid, Edward Cullen, as by Friday, he still hadn't come back to school.

Every day, I watched anxiously until I was sitting in the cafeteria and could see for my self that he wasn't with the rest of the Cullen family. Then I'd finally relax and truly start getting involved with the plans being made by the rest of my friends. It went against my better judgment, but I finally agreed to a couple tutoring sessions with Eric after school. I wasn't going to be catching up on my homework in this century otherwise.

We made plans to go to La Push by the start of next month. Mike insisted that the big swells would be here then, as he did every year – every year, he was wrong. I honestly was starting to think we didn't get big swells out here, not that I'd be in the water if one hit. I did paddle board, a little, but I couldn't surf when a wave hit... I didn't really enjoy ending up wrapped in seaweed after falling off my board and right into a mess of undertow.

By Friday, I was perfectly comfortable entering my film studies class, no longer worried that Edward would be there, as it appeared Edward wasn't returning. For all I knew, he had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for his continued absence, ridiculous as it seemed.

My first weekend back in Forks, passed without incident. Charlie, as usual, worked the vast majority of the weekend. I didn't mind. I cleaned the house, wrote my mom another email, drove to the library to check and see if their stock was any better – it wasn't – and I continued to work on my massive pile of homework.

On Monday, I got to school early, spending a few minutes just talking to my friends. It was colder than usual this morning, but surprisingly wasn't raining. I didn't pay any mind to it. In English, Mike sat down beside me while Eric sat behind me. It made me feel trapped in a strange way, but I ignored the sensation. We had a pop quiz on _Wuthering Heights_. It was straight forward, very easy.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I immediately looked southeast, hoping to see a billowing black cloud, but there wasn't one. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my cheeks and my nose.

"Wow," Mike said. "It's snowing."

I shuddered, for all the time I'd lived here, snow was one of things I truly detested. "I can tell."

"I'll never understand why you don't like snow, Bella."

"Because I can." My reply was tart, my mood soured by the sight of the white stuff.

Mike laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked the back of his head. We both turned to see where it came from. I had my suspicions about Eric, who was walking away, his back toward us – in the wrong direction for his next class. Mike apparently had the same notion. He bent down and began scraping together a pile of white mush.

"I'll see you at lunch," I shouted as I started jogging to get away from the impending snowball fight, heading towards my next class.

I walked alertly to the cafeteria with Jessica after spanish. Mush balls were flying everywhere. I kept a binder in my hands, ready to use it as a shield if necessary. Jessica thought I was hilarious, but my threat to tell Mike how much she secretly liked him kept her from lobbing a ball at _my_ head.

Mike caught up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about the the snow fight as we got in line to buy food. I glanced toward the table in the corner out of habit. And then I froze where I stood. There were five people at the table.

Edward was back.

Jessica poked me in the arm. "Hello? Earth to Bella? What do you want?"

I looked down; my ears were hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I hadn't done anything wrong.

"What's with you?" Mike asked when I didn't respond right away.

"Nothing," I answered. "I'll just get a soda today."

"Aren't you feeling hungry?" Jessica asked.

"Actually, I feel a little sick," I said, my eyes still on the floor.

I waited for them to get their food and then followed them to our table, my eyes, firmly on my feet.

I sipped my soda slowly, my stomach churning. Twice Mike asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling. I told him it was nothing, but I was wondering if I _should_ play it up and escape to the nurse's office for the next hour.

Ridiculous, I shouldn't have to run away.

I decided to permit myself one glance at the Cullen family's table. If he was glaring at me, I would skip film studies, like the coward I was.

I kept my hand down and glanced up under my lashes. None of them were looking this way. I lifted my head a little.

They were laughing. Edward, Jasper, and Emmett all had their hair entirely saturated with with melting snow. Alice and Rosalie were leaning away as Emmett shook his dripping hair towards them. They were enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else – only the scene in front of me looked a little too poised and practiced to seem natural to me.

Aside from the relatively normal teenage scene – the first they had so far made in the week since I'd been back – there was something different, and I couldn't quite pinpoint what that difference was. I examined Edward the most carefully. His skin was less pale and the circles under his eyes were much less noticeable. But there was something more. I pondered, staring, trying to isolate the change.

"Bella, what are you staring at?" Jessica intruded, her eyes following my stare.

At that precise moment, his eyes flashed to meet mine.

I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to conceal my face. I was sure though, in the instant our eyes met, that he didn't look harsh or unfriendly as he had the last time I'd seen him. He looked merely curious, unsatisfied in some way.

"Edward Culled is staring at you." Jessica giggled, her voice revealing the jealousy that the words themselves didn't convey.

"He doesn't look angry, does he?" I couldn't help the question.

"No," she said, sounding beyond confused by my question. "Should he be?"

"He didn't seem to like me much last week." I still felt queasy. I put my head down on my arm. My voice had been cold, conveying that I didn't want to talk about it.

Jessica didn't take the hint, and she assumed the wrong meaning from my words. "Well.. I told you he doesn't date." She giggled again. "But, he's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at him," I hissed. I tried to remind myself why I was even still friends with Jessica. In many ways, she was more annoying than Lauren – who was at least open in her hatred towards me, the feeling was mutual.

Jessica snickered, but looked away as I asked. I raised my head enough to make sure that she did, contemplating violence if she hadn't.

Mike interrupted us then, his eyes alight with excitement as I looked up at him. He wanted us to join in a snowball fight he was planning for the end of the school day. I arched my eyebrow at him, not even bothering to acknowledge his offer. He knew me better than that. Jessica agreed to join as long as she could be on his team, her words clear to everyone at the table except him. He was completely blind to how Jessica felt about him.

For the rest of the lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table. I decided to honor the bargain I'd made with myself. Since he didn't look angry, I would go to film studies. My stomach did frightened little flips at the thought of sitting next to him again. At least it wasn't like we'd have to talk to each other. I was sure we'd be starting on a new movie today.

I dithered about getting up and walking to class, not wanting to get hit by a snowball – likely to hit me directly in the face, such was my luck. In fact, I didn't get up until I heard the groans from Mike and Tyler. I looked up to the cafeteria door, seeing most of the snow had melted and it was now pouring rain. I smiled and pulled my hood up, getting up and heading outside to go to class.

Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that the desk next to mine was still empty. Mr. Berty was walking around the room, depositing a stack of papers on each of the desks. Class didn't start for a few more minutes, and the room buzzed with conversations. I took my seat and started doodling on my notebook cover as I eyed the papers on my desk. The top of the front paper read _Understanding the benefits of the graphics in the early nineteen hundreds._ I refused to glance at the door, hoping Edward wouldn't come in.

I saw from the corner of my eye as his perfect legs, dressed in form fitting denim, sat down in the desk beside me. I refused to look at him, focusing my full attention on the pattern I was drawing.

"Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was sitting on the very edge of his seat, his body rigid, as if at any moment he'd bolt, but he was facing his body in my direction. His hair was dripping wet, disheveled – even so, he looked like he'd just finished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his flawless lips. But his eyes were careful.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You're Bella Swan, correct?"

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now. I had to speak; he was waiting. I couldn't think of what to say though, I was sure my confusion was clear on my face, I flushed in embarrassment.

"Yes, that's me." I managed to stammer out. In a bigger town, it might be curious that the new kid already knew the name of a girl he'd never spoke to before, but this was Forks. Everyone knew who the chief's daughter was, and everyone also knew my hatred of my given name, Isabella. I'm sure he hadn't been here a week before he heard the story of the little second grader who punched her best friend at the time because she refused to call her by her preferred nickname. Lauren never had forgiven me for the broken nose, and I never had gotten over her continued insistence to call me Isabella.

He laughed a soft, enchanting laugh even as he looked away from me.

Thankfully, Mr. Berty called class to order. My expectation that we'd be starting on a new movie had been incorrect though. Instead, we were to start on a partnered essay about the graphics of the early nineteen hundreds, and what made them superior to our current graphics. The essay was going to count for half of our grade for this semester. "I want all of you to turn your desks so you face your partner. Those of you in the two middle aisles, please turn to face the wall closest to you, and those of you closest to walls, please turn to face the center of the room. You will have today to start planning this essay. If you can keep your conversations quiet and not have this class end in a shouting match then I'll allow you to do the majority of the essay during class over the next couple weeks, otherwise it will be homework outside of school."

By turning the desk to face the direction I was told, I ended up partnered with Edward in the truest sense.

"Get started," he commanded from the front of the room after everyone had turned their desks.

"This is going to be interesting," Edward murmured, almost too quietly for me to hear.

"What was that?" I asked, my eyes narrowing.

"Nothing. So how many of the movies have you gotten to see so far from the first few weeks that you missed?" Edward's question was legitimate and there wasn't any of the antagonism or jealousy I'd heard from my own friends in my other classes as I'd been partnered off to do random projects.

Still, I took offense. "Yes, I have a life outside of this tiny town and got to spend a few weeks in Panama. It doesn't mean I'm gonna be incompetent. I'll do my part of the project and do it well." My voice was cold as I took out my building frustration that was aimed at my own friends on him.

He smirked, it made his golden eyes practically spark with life. I blinked. They'd been black last week. "Calm down, Bella. I just asked if you've watched any of the other movies yet."

"Did you get contacts?" I blurted out, completely ignoring what he wanted to know, though some part of me knew he needed to know where I was at. It was only fair, given how much this project was worth. He deserved to have a competent partner.

He looked completely befuddled by my sudden question. "No."

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes."

He shrugged and looked away.

In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the flat black color of his eyes the last time he'd glared at me – the color was striking against his pale skin and his auburn hair. Today, they were a golden butterscotch. I didn't understand how they could be so different, unless he was lying for some reason about the contacts.

I looked down. His hands were clenched into hard fists again.

I finally remembered his initial question. "I went through all I missed in this class and made a list of the movies from the first six weeks that I've never watched before, but I haven't gotten around to watch them yet. I have seen _The Gold Rush_ with Charlie Chaplin from 1925 and _The Phantom Of The Opera_ also from 1925."

He seemed relieved to have me bring the subject of our project back up. "Okay, so there's still five that you haven't seen. And the first half of _King Kong_ , of course."

I thought back to the list I made, frowning. "I only counted four."

"Which ones do you have on your list?"

I opened my notebook to the page I'd wrote it down on. "I have _Ben-Hur_ from 1925, _Nosferatu_ from 1922, _The Birth of a Nation_ from 1915, and _A Trip to the Moon_ from 1902."

"You're missing _The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse_ from 1921. It was a homework project. You can borrow a copy of that dvd from Mr. Berty. We all got one at the time, and I do believe everyone returned it, so he should have about twenty-six copies of it."

"Okay, I'll do that." I scribbled the name on my list of movies to be watched.

"If you'd like, I could bring you copies of the other movies so you can watch them. My father has quite a collection of movies. I'm sure he wouldn't mind me loaning them to you."

I blinked in honest surprise. I hadn't expected the offer and was completely thrown. "Sure, that would be nice."

"I'll bring them tomorrow."

"Okay."

We were silent for a few minutes. I figured he was too polite to tell me that there was too much I didn't know for us to have an intelligent conversation until I was fully caught up.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" he asked. I had the feeling that he was forcing himself to make small talk with me. Paranoia swept over me. It was like he had heard what I'd told Jessica about him at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong.

"Not in the slightest," I answered completely honestly. Everyone else in school already knew I hated the snow when it did make appearances.

"You don't like the snow." It wasn't a question.

I answered anyways. "No."

"But you don't mind the rain?"

"I'm used to it. I've lived here my whole life. It would make for a miserable life if I didn't enjoy it, given it rains ninety percent of the year here."

"Then why don't you like snow?"

I didn't understand his curiosity, and I understood my compulsion to want to answer even less. "If it's snowing, it means it's too cold for rain."

He let out a chuckle, it was the type that wasn't about amusement so much as being about shock. "Doesn't your mother live in the south somewhere?"

"Yes." There was no point in denying it. I was sure he already knew everything about my family. It was impossible not to. The fact that my mom walked out and left me home alone was something that was still talked about at the lodge. It was common knowledge.

"If you don't like the cold then why don't you go to live with her?"

"Is that supposed to be funny?" I asked harshly, my hands clenching into fists. Surely I wouldn't get into too much trouble if I broke his nose for defending my dad.

"No." He seemed legitimately bewildered by my reaction.

Well, he'd asked. "I would never leave my father – just walk out like my mom did. It was pure cruelty. He needs someone steady in his life, someone that loves him more than mother nature. After almost seventeen years his heart is practically fully healed, for which I'm grateful. Maybe someday soon he'll be ready to date again, but it would destroy him if I left. I'll be going off to college at the end of the next school year and moving on with my life. That's bad enough. I have no idea how he'll fend for himself without me." I'd said too much, my temper having gotten away from me. I shut my mouth.

"That's how it supposed to happen. You grow up and become an adult yourself. Your father can't expect you to not live your life." Edward seemed almost bemused by my words.

"He'd never stop me. But that isn't what I'm saying and you wouldn't understand. You're only a freshman. Wait until your closer to graduating. You'll understand by then that it's not just you that rely on your parents. They rely on you too. I admit that it's a bit different for people who have two parents raising them then it is for me, as at least they have each other. Still... there's a symbiotic relationship between parent and child."

He frowned at me, and I wondered what he was thinking. He didn't comment though.

"But you mother, don't you feel bad about always leaving her behind?" So he did know about me.

"It's different." I didn't bother to explain why, I was sure he could figure it out on his own. "Besides, she's remarried now. She's also traveling with him."

His gaze became appraising. "You put on a good show," he said slowly. "But I think you miss her more than you let on."

I grimaced at him, resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at him like the five-year-old child his words made me suddenly feel like. I turned away.

"Am I wrong?"

I bit my tongue in an effort to stop myself from answering.

"I didn't think so," he murmured almost smugly.

"What does it matter to _you_?" I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes turned away, watching the clock and hoping the bell would ring.

"That's a very good question," he muttered, so quietly that I wondered if he was talking to himself. However, after a few seconds of silence, I decided that was the only answer I was gonna get.

I sighed, scowling in frustration.

"Am I annoying you?" he asked. He sounded amused.

I glanced at him without thinking…and told the truth again. "Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read – I'm usually considered an open book." I frowned.

"On the contrary. I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and he'd guessed, he sounded like he meant it.

"You must be a good reader then," I replied, there was a subtle undertone layer of sarcasm in my voice as even Eric found me easy to read, but he didn't seem to hear it.

"Usually." He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultra-white teeth.

The bell rang just then as Mr. Berty asked everyone to please turn their desks to the original positions. Most of them didn't bother, getting up and running out of the door as quickly as they could. But I straightened my desk and then gathered my stuff to head out.

Edward straightened his desk as well before rushing out the door, moving so fast I almost missed it. I shook my head.

Angela came up beside me. "Edward seemed friendly today, anyways."

I shrugged. "I'm not sure what was with him last Tuesday."

Angela and I both left class, heading to biology together. Mike met up with us about halfway there.

I did another lab with Ashley Dowling. This time, I didn't even bother to offer her the microscope. She was pretty good in most classes, but she was hopeless in science. I handed her my paper once I was finished so she could write down the answers on her paper.

At the end of class I walked with Mike to gym. He prattled on about the snow. I ignored him.

It was volleyball again today, but Coach Clapp just had me run laps around the gym. It was a healthier experience for everyone. Most of the kids in the class breathed a sigh of relief when the Coach told me to run laps. I couldn't blame them. Handing me a ball was the equivalent of handing me a chainsaw, dangerous in the extreme.

The rain was just a mist by the time class was done and I was walking out to the parking lot. As soon as I got in the cab, I got it on and the heater running. I unzipped my jacket, put the hood down, and fluffed my damp hair out so the heater could dry it on the way home.

I looked around to make sure it was clear. That's when I noticed the still, white figure. Edward Cullen was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me, and staring intently in my direction. I swiftly looked away and threw the truck into reverse, almost hitting Austin's rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste. Luckily for Austin's car, I stomped on the brake just in time. It was just the sort of car that my truck would make scrap metal out of. I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from a peripheral peek, I could swear I saw him laughing.

* * *

 **AN:** I know there are large sections directly from Twilight. For the record, I do not own that text, just as the disclaimer says. I am not going to italicize it or underline or bold it though because frankly I find stories that do that to be extremely distracting, and I usually use those kinds of special features for other reasons. Hopefully, it's already clear that there are major differences between this story and the original Twilight.


	4. Chapter 3 - Phenomenon

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 3 – Phenomenon**

When I opened my eyes in the morning, something was different.

It was the light. It was still the gray-green light of a cloudy day in the forest, but it was clearer somehow. I realized there was no fog veiling my window.

I jumped up to look outside, and then groaned in horror.

A fine layer of white stuff covered the yard, dusted the top of my truck, and whitened the road. But that wasn't the worst part. All the rain from yesterday had frozen solid – coating the needles on the trees in fantastic, gorgeous patterns, and making the driveway a deadly icy slick. Especially for me. I had enough trouble not falling down when the ground was dry; it might be safer for me to go back to bed now.

Charlie had left for work by the time I got downstairs, a note on the kitchen counter informing me that he was helping out another county yet again. It wasn't uncommon out here, not enough money in the budget of most of the surrounding counties to truly afford a large police force, so the counties helped each other out as needed. Even some of the bigger areas, like North Bend and Seattle, didn't truly have enough police to do what would actually be needed if a crisis ever truly hit. It was yet another sore topic for my dad.

I ate a quick bowl of cereal and drank some orange juice straight from the carton. I knew it was a bad habit to have, but Charlie never drank the juice I brought home anyways. In truth, I was lucky if I caught Charlie drinking anything other than coffee or beer.

I was excited to go to school. I knew it was because I would get another chance to see Edward, I refused to admit it even to myself though.

I should be avoiding him entirely. Between my brainless babbling yesterday and the way he treated me last week – not to mention his obvious lies – I knew it was foolish to be looking forward to spending time with him. I couldn't help myself though, even if he and I were in completely different stratospheres when it came to leagues.

It took every ounce of concentration to make it down the icy brick driveway alive. I almost lost my balance when I finally got to my truck, but I managed to cling to the side mirror and save myself. Clearly, today was going to be nightmarish.

Driving to school, I distracted myself from my fear of humiliating myself once there by thinking about Edward and his family. There was something so strange about them all. Each one of them looked far older then they claimed to be, with Edward looking the youngest of them all, and even he looked closer to eighteen than the fourteen or fifteen that he should be, given his grade. Alice looked to be right on the cusp of adulthood, in spite of her small stature, I thought she had to be almost twenty, at least from the way she looked and acted. Rosalie could easily pass for anywhere from twenty-one to twenty-five, as could Emmett. As for Jasper, the only thing I could think of him was ageless, I supposed he could pass for eighteen or so, but he could just as easily pass for thirty. None of them looked the age they were supposed to be though, and I couldn't help but wonder if maybe they were in witness protection or something and pretending to be younger than they really were. I wondered if dad would be able to tell me if I asked. Would he even know?

I was surprised when I arrived at school with no troubles. My truck had no problems with the black ice that covered the roads. Even so, I realized it was foolish to be contemplating stuff that shouldn't be important rather than focusing on driving. Especially in this weather.

When I got out of my truck at school, I saw why I'd had so little trouble. Something silver caught my eye, and I walked to the back of the truck – carefully holding the side for support – to examine my tires. There were thin chains crisscrossed in diamond shapes around them. Charlie had gotten up who knew how early to put snow chains on my truck. My throat suddenly felt tight. My father's thoughtfulness caught me by surprise.

I was standing by the back corner of the truck, struggling to fight back the sudden wave of emotion the snow chains had brought on, when I heard an odd sound.

It was a high-pitched screech, and it was fast becoming painfully loud. I spun around, startled.

I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion, the way it does in the movies. Instead, the adrenaline rush seemed to make my mind work much faster, and I was able to absorb several things in clear detail at once.

Edward Cullen was standing four cars down, staring at me in horror. Alice and him stood side by side, her face was an identical mask of horror. Further back were the three older members of the family, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett – all of their faces were completely aloof, unconcerned with what was happening. Theirs were the only ones.

Jessica, Angela, and Mike – who I assume had all been chatting moments earlier – were standing across the lot besides Mike's SUV all staring in shock and fear. Austin's Corolla was just to their left, where Austin, Rob, Ben and Eric all had similar masks on their faces. To the right of Mike's SUV, Lauren was just getting out of her rusted out Mustang, her mouth was forming a word, I had no clue what. She too looked horrified.

Many of the other faces blended together, but amongst all of them, there was one solid fact, everyone had the same looks of horror, shock, terror and fear.

Then came the far more important fact of Tyler's dark blue van skidding, tires locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It was going to hit the back corner of my truck – right where I was standing. I always knew my bad luck was going to get me killed someday and it looked like today was that day.

I locked eyes with Tyler. I heard his engine rev. Something rock hard and ice cold hit me, but not from the direction I was expecting. I felt my head connect with concrete.

Everything went black.

. . .

I opened my eyes as I felt a hard bump, everything was groggy. A bright light was shining in my eyes. I recognized the face above the light, Brett Warner. He'd graduated about four years ago. I remembered when he took the job as the EMT, it had been all dad had wanted to talk about for days.

I closed my eyes.

"Bella, stay with me now. We'll be to the hospital soon."

I groaned and tried to open my eyes again, but it was too much work. I couldn't remember how to do it.

"How's she doing?" Someone said from the front of the ambulance. I was sure that's what I was in. It sounded like it was Martin Klark, he was probably the driver.

"I'm guessing a concussion and at least a couple broken ribs. We'll know for sure once she gets into the hospital," Brett said, his normally easy going voice sounded strained.

"She's lucky to be alive. If Edward Cullen hadn't been right there and shoved her down we'd have been picking up a body." It was Martin again, this time I was sure it was his voice.

"Yeah well, he could have been a little gentler with the shove," Brett muttered.

Everything faded to black again.

. . .

When I came to the second time the first thing I remembered was the fact that Tyler had tried to kill me. I remembered locking eyes and hearing him put his foot to the accelerator. We had dated for two years. He'd just tried to kill me. I started to hyperventilate. I heard a heart monitor go crazy.

"Bella, you need to calm down." I'd recognize the smooth melodic voice anywhere. It was Edward.

I opened my eyes immediately, seeking him out. "What happened?"

"Tyler lost control of his van and was skidding towards you. I was near you and saw what was going to happen, so I shoved you down. Unfortunately in my panic I pushed you too hard. You hit your head pretty hard on the pavement. My dad thinks you've got a concussion, a couple broken ribs too. I've been waiting for you to wake up because I wanted to personally apologize for what happened. If I'd been a bit more careful then you might not have been injured at all."

"That wasn't what happened. Tyler deliberately tried to kill me." I remembered the look in his eyes. It had to have been on purpose.

"I assure you, he never wanted to harm you. That wasn't what he was–" Edward stopped. "What I mean is that I could tell that wasn't his intention or desire."

"But the way he looked at me..." I trailed off. "Wait a second, you weren't anywhere near me."

"I was standing right next to you, Bella."

"No, you weren't. I remember. You were beside Alice at your car. The rest of your family was behind you two. They were the only three in the entire lot completely unconcerned by the fact that I was about to be killed."

"No, I wasn't. I was right beside you." He didn't comment on what I said about his family.

I started to dig my metaphorical heels in. I _knew_ that he'd been four cars away. I couldn't have imagined it. "No, you were standing in front of your Volvo. It was four cars away from where I'd parked. In between us was Rob's nineteen eighty something Buick, Sarah's nineteen ninety five BMW rust-bucket, and June's older Lincoln Continental."

Edward's eyes looked almost guilty as he responded to my words. "Bella, you are right about the placement of the vehicles, but I wasn't standing near my vehicle. I was right beside you. I shoved you down to keep you from getting hit, but my push was a bit too strong. You hit your heard pretty hard. It's probably why the events aren't lining up right for you."

"I don't know..." I remembered something hitting me from the side, it had felt like more than just a hand or even a pair of them. It had been cold and hard, almost as hard as what I figured the vehicle would have felt like. If he'd knocked me down then that didn't make sense. He was only a boy after all. "Maybe you're right."

Edward smiled, seeming to be relieved by the fact that I was agreeing with him. "I am."

I looked down, memories of my brief return to consciousness while in the ambulance resurfacing. "Thank you. For saving my life."

Suddenly a doctor stepped into my room – it was one of only two private rooms in the ER and I often felt that both had my name permanently attached to them – my mouth dropped open. He was _young_ , he was blond... and he was handsomer than any movie star I'd ever seen. He was pale, though, and tired-looking, with dark circles under his black eyes. I didn't need anyone to tell me that this had to be Edward's father. I didn't recognize him and I knew all the doctors here.

"So, Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen said in a remarkably appealing voice. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm completely fine," I grumbled, it was hardly my first time with a concussion or even broken ribs. Edward stepped out of the room after Carlisle looked at him.

"EMT's on scene believe you have a concussion. I would like to order a CT scan to confirm it."

"You don't need to order one. I can already tell I have one, it's hardly my first." In fact, it was my second concussion this year. I could feel the pulsing pain in my head of an oncoming headache, the lights were painful to look at, staring at any one thing too long made it fuzzy – all of which were classic signs of a concussion. It was sad that I could self diagnose one.

"Yes, I've read your charts. Is there any particular reason that your medical background is larger than most people twice your age?"

"I'm accident prone and have seriously bad luck. Always been that way." I remembered dad telling me that one of the first times after I started to stand on my own I fell and hit the crib bars hard enough to cause a hairline crack on my skull. Charlie had been terrified by it. It was one of my first ever visits to the ER. I didn't remember it, of course.

"It would be my recommendation that you stay the night in the hospital."

I groaned. "What for?"

He opened his mouth, but I knew what he was about to tell me.

"Dr. Cullen, I know the reasons, but I hardly need to be shown how to wrap my ribs. I also know what to look for and do when it comes to concussions. As does my dad. He's the chief of police, he has some basic medical knowledge. And if you've really read my charts then you know this is hardly my first rodeo."

"If your father checks you out then I can hardly stop it, but I wouldn't advise it."

I knew all of this. "Where is my dad?" It wasn't like him not to be here.

"He was in the waiting room talking to someone on the phone when I was coming to check on you. Would you like me to get him?"

There was only one person he would be calling with me here. "Yes, please."

I waited impatiently for them to come back, knowing that he was probably advising my dad that I should stay in the hospital for the night – and if this was ten years ago, I'm sure my dad would have agreed. Now though, he was as used to my injuries as I was. I knew he'd take me home. There was no point staying here through the night.

As I waited, I happened to glance at the table beside me. On it, were four, still plastic wrapped, dvd cases. I reached over, stretching to grab them, really feeling the burning pain from my ribs for the first time as I did so. I shuffled through them. They were the four movies that Edward was going to loan me. They were brand new. These hadn't been in his dad's collection.

Finally Dr. Cullen and dad stepped into the room. "Dad, you here to spring me?"

"Yeah, paper's have already been signed," dad said, confirming what I'd suspected. "You gave me a heart attack, kid. You know that right?"

"Sorry, dad," I said contritely.

To Dr. Cullen I suspected that my dad's decision to go against his recommendation seemed like unnecessary callousness about my life. It wasn't that though. It was knowledge, knowledge that this was hardly my first accident, and definitely was not going to be my last. Knowledge that I would be far more comfortable at home. Knowledge that I would spend the entire night restless and worrying about him if I couldn't go home and cook supper for him.

It wasn't long after that when dad and I were leaving, the dvds that Edward had lent me in hand.

Part of me knew I should ask how Tyler was, but I still couldn't shake the fact in my mind that it had seemed like he had intentionally tried to kill me.

"So, what did mom say?"

Charlie looked guilty. "How did you know?"

I arched an eyebrow at him. Even if I hadn't been told that he'd been spotted on the phone, how could I not know?

"Fine, she wants you to call her," he finally said, still looking guilty.

"Okay..." I trailed off. I knew there was more.

"Alright, I told her that you were almost in a car wreck." Charlie finally broke down. "She was distressed and wants you to move down with her."

And there it was. "But she isn't coming up here, is she?" I didn't wait for the no answer that I knew I would receive, instead, I sped up, walking faster than my dad to get to his car so we could head home.

It was always the same, every injury, every ER visit, she never came. Mom loved me, and I knew that, but be it her erratic, child-like attitude or her fear of what she might face … she never came. I wondered, more often than I liked, if she'd even bother to show when I graduated from high school. Would she come to Seattle when I graduated from college? Would she come to Tacoma when I graduated from the police academy? Would she be there for my wedding, if I ever had one?

I once again shoved my concerns into a tight recess of my mind, burying them the same way I always did.

When we got home, I called mom and reassured her that I was fine. The injuries were no worse than what I normally had and she didn't need to worry. She wanted me to move down to Florida where she was currently looking for a house. I refused.

I fixed fried fish and fried okra even though it wasn't healthy, as it was quick, and served the food out in the living room where another football game was on when it was done.

After cleaning the dishes I went up stairs and opened one of the dvd cases and inserted the movie into my computer to watch.

Once the movie was finished, I went into the bathroom to shower, unwrapping the bandage around my ribs so I could do so. When I finished unwrapping it I happened to glance in the mirror. On my side, right where my broken ribs were, was the perfect, bruised indentation of a hand print.

I dreamt about Edward that night.

* * *

 **AN:** Long author's note, but some food for thought.

1st) Was Tyler really trying to kill Bella? I can confirm he did hit the accelerator, but it is a commonly accepted practice that hitting the gas can pull a person out of a spin. (Not saying that it actually works). So was he trying to save her life? Or trying to kill her? I know in my mind which way I saw it, but I refuse to tell you which.

2nd) You may have noticed the fact that Edward knocked her out. There are many reasons for this decision. One of the main ones is the fact that the throughout the original Twilight Saga it was told to Bella how fragile she really was in comparison to Edward, and in spite of the fact that he shows off his strength a couple of times, her fragility was never really shown. The other major part is the fact this is a difference between fantasy and reality and the original version was just a bit too fantastical for my liking.

3rd) Lauren Mallory was yelling "Isabella move" as loud as she could. This will never be revealed to Bella, and even if it did slip out, Bella wouldn't believe it. But Lauren is a multi-faceted girl, and even though she hates Bella, she ultimately cares for her. I think everyone knew someone like that when they were in school.

4th) Some people may think badly of my Renee. For the record, I don't see her that way. She is a good person and the best mother that she can be. I know some people believe that a person should always have both a mother and a father in their lives, I don't. I am truly a believer that sometimes the best a person can do for a child is to let them go. That is what Renee did. She knew she was not fit to raise a young child, which is why she left her with her dad. However now that Bella is older, Renee would be more than able to be a part of Bella's life if Bella did want to move down with her mom. I see my Renee as very similar to the one in Twilight, just a little more erratic and child-like than the original version.

5th) and lastly... did you notice what Bella wants to be when she grows up?


	5. Chapter 4 - Invitations

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 4 – Invitations**

In my dream it was very dark, and what little light there was seemed to be radiating from Edward's skin. I couldn't see his face, just his back as he walked away from me, leaving me in blackness. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn't catch up to him; no matter how loud I called, he never turned. Troubled, I woke in the middle of the night and couldn't sleep again for what seemed like a very long time. After that, he was in my dreams nearly every night, but always in the periphery, never in reach.

The weeks that followed the accident were uneasy, tense, and, at first, embarrassing.

To my dismay, I found myself the center of attention for the rest of the week. Tyler Crowley was impossible, following me around, obsessed with making amends to me somehow. I tried to convince what I wanted more than anything else was for him to forget all about it – especially since I had no desire to rekindle our relationship – but he remained insistent. He followed me to classes and out to my truck every day at the end of school. Lauren's glaring hatred towards me became more pronounced every day, and if I had the gut, I knew I'd tell him to ask her out already and leave me alone, but I didn't, because I was a coward.

No one seemed concerned about Edward, though I explained over and over that he was the one who had shoved me out of the way – well, he'd shoved me down, how he'd done it from half a lot away, I still didn't know. Jessica, Mike, Eric, and everyone else I had shared this with, commented that they hadn't seen him beside me, further cementing my belief that he had been at his car.

I wondered to myself why no one else was saying that he'd been standing with his siblings before he suddenly, impossibly saved my life. I knew that part of it was that everyone had been focused on Tyler's van and me – the girl about to be crushed by the van. The other reason was also obvious, even if someone had seen him over there. It would have been impossible for him to be by my side at the same time. Since I was saved by him, anyone who had seen him with his siblings would rule it out as impossible and assume their own perception was flawed.

Unlike me, Edward was never surrounded by crowds of bystanders eager for his first hand account. People avoided him as usual. The Cullens and the Hales sat at the same table as always, never eating, talking only among themselves. None of them, especially Edward, glanced my way anymore.

When he sat in the desk beside me in class, he avoided all contact with me, even as were forced to face each other to work on the essay two days out of each week. He refused to talk to me during the hour long class, often times doing an impression of a statue that would put the David statue to shame. Only now and then, when his fists would ball up – skin stretched even whiter over the bones – did I notice his facade slip.

He wished he hadn't saved my life – it was the only conclusion I could reach.

I wanted very much to talk to him, and the after the accident, I tried. The last time I'd seen him, at my bedside in the ER, he'd lied to my face, and I needed to know why. I needed to understand why I was lying to every student who I told my tale to. I needed to _know_ what had really happened. For my own sake of mind.

But when I tried to confront him the day after the accident with a pleasant, "Hello, Edward." He had ignored me completely.

That weekend, Jessica and Angela went for their day at the hot springs in North Bend, but I reneged on it, using my concussion as an excuse to not go, no longer feeling like celebrating my return home from Panama.

As the school days passed, I tried to ignore Edward as thoroughly as he was ignoring me. I also tried to ignore Tyler and Mike. I wasn't very successful on any front. In the evenings, before I made supper or went to bed, I spent the hours fully encroached with Eric helping me to catch up on my homework.

By the time I'd go to bed each night, I was exhausted. And in spite of that, the dreams of Edward continued.

I tried to convince Renee via my emails that I was fine, but I couldn't even lie in an email convincingly. She tried to convince me to move to Phoenix, just for a few months, but she still didn't call, and she definitely didn't offer to come up and see me.

Mike asked me on another date, I refused again, this time with a ten pound text book hurled at his head which he dodged easily. If I'd actually meant to hurt him, I would have been upset that my projectile missed. Unfortunately, I hadn't even really been aiming at his head. My goal had been his stomach.

The snow washed away for good after that one dangerously icy day. Mike was disappointed he'd never gotten to stage his snowball fight, but pleased that a beach trip would soon be possible. The rain continued heavily, and the weeks passed.

Jessica made me aware of another event looming on the horizon. She called the second Tuesday of November to make sure I wasn't planning on asking Mike as a date to the Winter Ball.

"Are you sue you don't mind...you weren't planning to ask him?" She persisted when I told her no the first time.

"No, Jess, I doubt I'll even go," I assured her. She should know, after all, in the nine years we'd known each other, I'd been to exactly one dance – the poorly name Fall Ball we had back in fifth grade. I'd fell down three times during that dance, which had ran for the two hours immediately after we got out of classes one Friday in late October.

"It will be really fun, you know." Her words were enthusiastic, too much so.

I snorted. "Which part? The dance? Or when I fall down and break my ankle because I'm wearing some sort of torture device on my feet?"

She laughed. "Okay, I get your point. But you'll go shopping with Angela and me in Port Angeles for dresses?"

"I thought you went shopping in North Bend a few weeks ago."

"Well... we were going to but we met these really hot college kids from the University of Seattle. There were three–" And she was off. I completely tuned her out as she talked about her experience with the college boys.

I walked away from the phone to pull some fish from the freezer as she kept prattling away, also pulling out Harry's fish fry and a bag of steak fries.

I picked up the phone as soon as I got back and she was still talking. Finally, about two minutes later, she got back to the point. "So if you're absolutely sure about Mike..."

"I'm sure. You have fun with him," I encouraged.

We hung up after that and then I proceeded to fix fish and chips for supper.

. . .

The next day, I was surprised that Jessica wasn't her usual gushing self in Trig and Spanish. She was silent as she walked by my side between classes and I was afraid to ask her why. If Mike had turned her down, I was the last person she would want to tell.

My fears strengthened during lunch when Jessica sat as far from Mike as possible, chatting animatedly with Eric. Mike was unusually quiet.

Mike was still quiet as he walked beside me and Angela to Film Studies even though he was scheduled for a class in the opposite direction. The uncomfortable look on his face made me even more nervous. As we got to my class, he opened the door for Angela, giving her a pointed look until she went in, then he grabbed my wrist, pulling me around the side of the building. I grimaced.

"So," Mike said, looking at the brick wall of the building, "Jessica asked me to the Winter Ball."

"That's great," I said excitedly. "You'll have a lot of fun with Jessica."

"Well..." He floundered as his face soured, clearly not happy with my response. "I told her I had to think about it."

"Why would you do that?" I didn't have to fake my disapproval, had the text book to the head not been a clear enough no?

His face turned bright red and pity shook my resolve.

"I was wondering if...well, if you might be planning to ask me."

I clenched my fists, wondering just how much it would take to get him off my case. Permanently.

"Mike, I think you should tell her yes."

"Did you already ask someone?" Mike demanded, his voice was hard.

"No," I assured him. "I'm not going to the dance at all."

"Why not?"

"You know why." I pointedly looked down at my own feet.

"Plenty of people go to dances and don't actually dance."

"Mike, if I wanted to be a wall flower I'd go to the lodge with my Dad for steak and potatoes more often."

"Then we could go somewhere else instead of the dance."

"Are you being deliberately dense, Mike? I could never go out with you. It would be like dating my brother."

Mike grunted, looking away, so it was deliberate density then.

"You shouldn't make Jess wait on you – it's rude."

"Yeah, you're right," he mumbled, and turned, dejected, to walk away from the building and head to his own class. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to push the guilt and sympathy out of my head. I banged my head once against the brick wall before opening my eyes and heading around to walk into class.

Most of the students had already turned their desks towards each other, as Wednesday and Thursday had become the two designated days to work on our essay. It was to be due at the end of the semester on the day we took our final exam.

Mr. Berty looked up when I walked in. "You're late, Ms. Swan."

I flinched. "Sorry, Mr. Berty, it won't happen again."

I hurried past him, not waiting on an answer, turning my desk to face Edward's which had already been turned. I quickly pulled the partial essay I'd already written out of my bag.

When I looked up, Edward was staring at me curiously, that same, familiar edge of frustration even more distinct now in his black eyes.

I stared back, surprised, expecting him to look quickly away. But instead he continued to gaze with probing intensity into my eyes. There was no question of me looking away. My hands started to shake.

Someone threw a balled up paper that hit the side of my head. It broke the spell and I looked away from Edward, taking in a deep breath.

I looked down at my partial essay, trying to remember where I'd left off last week, knowing that he wouldn't help me, just like always since he saved my life. I allowed my hair to fall forward with my head, covering the worst of my blush. I couldn't believe how much blood had rushed to my cheeks – just because he's happened to look at me for the first time in a half-dozen weeks. I couldn't allow him to have this level of influence over me. It was pathetic. More than pathetic, it was unhealthy.

I tried very hard not to be aware of him for the rest of the hour, and, since that was impossible, at least not to let him know that I was aware of him. When the bell rang at last, I turned the desk back to it's normal position and placed my things in my bag, expecting him to leave immediately, as usual.

"Bella?" His voice shouldn't have been so familiar to me, as if I'd known the sound of it all my life rather than just a few short weeks.

I turned slowly, unwillingly. I didn't want to feel what I knew I _would_ feel when I looked at his too-perfect face. My expression was wary when I finally turned to him; his expression was unreadable. He didn't say anything.

"What? Are you speaking to me again?" I finally asked, an unintentional note of petulance in my voice.

His lips twitched, fighting a smile. "No, not really," he admitted.

I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly through my nose, aware that I was gritting my teeth. He waited.

"Then what do you want, Edward?" I asked, keeping my eyes closed; it was easier to talk to him coherently that way.

"I'm sorry." He sounded sincere. " I'm being very rude, I know. But it's better this way, really."

I opened my eyes. His face was very serious.

"I don't know what you mean," I said, my voice guarded.

"It's better if we're not friends," he explained. "Trust me."

My eyes narrowed. I'd heard _that_ before.

"It's too bad you didn't figure that out earlier," I hissed through my teeth. "You could have saved yourself all this regret."

"Regret?" The word, and my tone, obviously caught him off guard. "Regret for what?"

"For not just letting that stupid van squish me."

He was astonished. He stared at me in disbelief.

When he finally spoke, he almost sounded mad. "You think I regret saving your life?

No, not really – given his surprise – but what other reason would he act the way he had? "I _know_ you do," I snapped.

"You don't know anything." He was definitely mad.

I turned my head sharply away from him, clenching my jaw against all the wild accusations I wanted to hurl at him. I picked up my bag, then walked to the door. I meant to sweep dramatically out of the room, but of course I caught the toe of my boot on the doorjamb causing me to drop my bag, which happened to land on my other foot. I closed my eyes for a second, wishing I could just magically rewind the last thirty seconds. I couldn't of course. I went to pick up my bag, but Edward was already at my side and had picked it up for me. He handed it to me, his face hard.

"Thank you," I said icily.

His eyes narrowed.

"You're welcome," he retorted.

I turned away from him and stalked off to science without looking back.

I couldn't tell you what the science class had been about ten minutes after it was over, but I could tell you that Gym was brutal. We'd moved on to basketball. My team never passed me the ball, so that was good, but I fell down a lot. Sometimes I took people with me. Today I was worse than usual because my head was so filled with Edward. I tried to concentrate on my feet, but he kept creeping back into my thoughts just when I really needed my balance.

It was a relief, as always, to leave. I almost ran to the truck; there were just so many people I wanted to avoid, including the three students I knocked over in gym with me today. The truck had suffered only minimal damage in the accident. I'd had to replace the taillights and if I'd had a real paint job, I would have touched that up. Tyler's parents had to sell the van for parts.

I almost had a stroke as I rounded the corner and saw someone leaning against the side of my truck. Then I realized it was Ben. I started walking again.

"Hey, Ben," I called. It wasn't completely unheard of for him and I to hang out, but he wasn't usually waiting around for me either, preferring to hang with Conner and Rob.

"Hi, Bella."

"What's up?" I said as I was unlocking the door. I wasn't paying attention to the uncomfortable edge in his voice, so his next words took me by surprise.

"Uh, I was wondering...if you would go to the Winter Ball with me?"

I blinked, looking at him in shock. "Wait, what?"

"Well...since you're single now and all? I just thought maybe we could go together...I mean you are single right? I know Tyler's been crowing that he's going to take you but we all saw the very public 'get lost' on your first day back."

Ben was rambling, a relatively normal trait of him. But as his words invaded my mind, I started to glare at him. "What do you mean Tyler is crowing that he's taking me?"

"He was telling all of us in the gym locker room that he had it in the bag, especially since you turned Mike down."

It took every ounce of will power in me not to do something volatile. "I'm not going to the dance, Ben. So ask someone else."

"Oh, okay," he said. "Well maybe next time."

"Sure," I agreed, and then bit my lip. I wouldn't want him to take that too literally.

He slouched off, back toward school. I heard a low chuckle.

Edward was walking past the front of my truck, looking straight forward, his lips pressed together. I yanked the door of my truck open and jumped inside, slamming the door loudly behind me. I revved the engine deafeningly and reversed out into the aisle. Edward was in his car already, two spaces down, sliding out smoothly in front of me, cutting me off. He stopped there – to wait for his family; I could see the four of them walking this way, but still by the cafeteria. I considered taking out the rear of his shiny Volvo, but there were too many witnesses. I looked in my rear-view mirror. A line was beginning to form. Directly behind me, Tyler Crowley was in his recently acquired used Sentra, waving. I was too aggravated – both with him and with Edward – to bother to acknowledge him.

While I was sitting there, looking everywhere but at the car in front of me, I heard a knock on my passenger side window. I looked over; it was Tyler. I glanced back in my rear-view mirror, confused. His car was still running, the door left open. I leaned across the cab to crank the window down. It was stiff. I got it halfway down, then gave up.

"I'm sorry, Tyler, I'm stuck behind Cullen." I was annoyed – obviously the holdup wasn't my fault.

"Oh, I know – I just wanted to ask you something while we're trapped here." He grinned.

I couldn't believe it, he was worse than a dog with a bone. I tried to remember why I'd even dated him for two years, and failed. "Yeah. I've heard all about you plan to take me to the dance. The answer's no. Crowley," I said, using his last name just to get on his nerve.

"But –"

"I'm not going to the dance."

"That's cool. We still have prom."

And before I could respond, he was walking back to his car. I could feel the shock on my face. I looked forward to see Alice, Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper all sliding into the Volvo. In his rear-view mirror, Edward's eyes were on me. He was unquestionably shaking with laughter, as if he'd heard every word of Tyler's and my conversation. My foot itched toward the gas pedal...one little bump wouldn't hurt any of them, just that glossy silver paint job. I revved the engine.

But they were all in, and Edward was speeding away. I drove home slowly, carefully, muttering to myself the whole way.

When I got home, I decided to make chicken enchiladas for dinner. It was a long process and it would keep me busy. While I was simmering the onions and chilies, the phone rang. I was almost afraid to answer it, but it might be Charlie.

It was Jessica, and she was jubilant; Mike had caught her after school to accept her invitation. I celebrated with her briefly while I stirred. She had to go, she wanted to call Angela and Lauren. I suggested, super casual like – that's too say, not at all – that perhaps Lauren should invite Tyler. It would at least get him off my back. I doubted Ben would ask me again, so I wasn't as worried about him. Jess thought it was a great idea. Now that she was sure of Mike, she didn't sound as vindictive when she made a query about me going to the dance. I told her no again. It wasn't my scene.

After I hung up, I tried to concentrate on dinner – dicing the chicken especially; I didn't want to make another trip to the emergency room so soon. But I didn't get very far because the doorbell rang. I knew it had to be Eric.

"Come on in, I'm in the kitchen," I shouted.

A minute later, Eric walked into the kitchen. "Just what are you making?"

"Enchiladas, You can stay and eat with Charlie and me after he gets home."

"Sounds great...actually, speaking of meals together, and that kind of thing –" He broke off suddenly.

I looked up from what I was doing, I could see the sweat rolling off his face. I suddenly knew with a sickening feeling where he was going. Three times today was enough to even give me a pointed hint. "No, Eric. I don't want to go to the dance with you. I'm not going. Period," I said it softly, trying to be gentle.

"Oh," he muttered.

"Perhaps you could ask Angela. She does like you, you know."

"Yeah... yeah that sounds like a good idea."

I finished the enchiladas and put them in the oven while he set up at the table to help me with what was left of the eighteen inch stack of homework I'd been given last month. I was down to only two inches left, so I figured I was doing good.

We'd just finished about a half inch of the stack when Charlie finally got home. Charlie seemed suspicious of the smell of the peppers. Not that I could blame him. Of course, he was the one that had wanted to try a five alarm chili two years ago. I'd only indulged him and made it.

Charlie, Eric and I went to the living room to eat the enchiladas, and Eric gulped it down as if it was his first time ever trying real Mexican food. Of course, considering the closest thing to Mexican that he'd probably ever had was the Taco Bell in Port Angeles, it didn't actually surprise me.

Once Eric was done eating, he took off, leaving his plate and fork on the coffee table. I rolled my eyes.

"Dad?" I asked, after he left.

"Yeah, Bella?"

"Um, I just wanted to let you know that I was thinking about taking a trip down to Tacoma the weekend before Thanksgiving. Spend a few days down there, since we'll be taking our fall break at that time, I'd be back by thanksgiving so you wouldn't have to fend for yourself for the holiday."

"Why?" He sounded surprised, as if he couldn't imagine why I'd want to go down there.

It was so I had a really good excuse if anyone else asked me to that dance. I didn't say that. "I was checking some stuff online last night. The police academy is having an open house that week. I thought I'd go down and check it out. I know I'm far too young to apply, but I want to go down and see the place."

"Hmph," Charlie grumbled. I knew what he was thinking. We'd had arguments about my plans several times since I'd originally told him. He'd wanted me to go off and get some fancy degree, perhaps move to Hawaii where I could get some tan and get rid of my albino complex. I didn't want that though. We'd went round and round about how dangerous being a cop was. We'd also went round and round about how a person didn't need 'academy smarts' to be a cop. But he was wrong about that. More and more police forces required it, and while I'd ideally like to come to work in Forks, I may have to settle for a town nearby, like Port Angeles.

"That truck probably doesn't get very good gas mileage," he finally said.

"I know, I'll stop in Montesano and Olympia."

"Are you going all by yourself?" he asked, and I couldn't tell if he was suspicious I had a secret boyfriend or just worried about car trouble.

"Yes."

"Tacoma is a big city – you could get lost," he fretted.

"It's hardly my first time there." I pointed out.

"It'll be your first time by yourself. Do you want me to come with you?"

I barely stopped my eyes from bulging in horror at the thought. "So you can complain to the instructors about how pointless going to the academy is? I don't think so. I actually want to make a good impression."

"Oh, okay."

"Thanks." I smiled at him.

"Will you go to the dance on Saturday, and go on Sunday?"

Blast it, I'd hoped he wouldn't notice the dates.

"No, I don't dance, Dad." He, of all people, should understand that – I didn't get my balance problems from my mother.

He did understand. "Oh, that's right."

. . .

The next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot, I deliberately parked as far as possible from the silver Volvo. I didn't want to put myself in the path of too much temptation and end up owing him a new car. Getting out of the cab, I fumbled with my key and it fell into a puddle at my feet. As I bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and grabbed it before I could. I jerked upright. Edward Cullen was right next to me, leaning casually against my truck.

"How do you _do_ that?" I asked in amazed irritation.

"Do what?" He held my key out as he spoke. As I reached for it, he dropped it into my palm.

"Appear out of thin air."

"Bella, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant." His voice was quiet as usual – velvet, muted.

I scowled at his perfect face. I knew quite well that he hadn't been there when I got out of my truck. If anything, I was too observant when it came to him. His eyes were light again today, a deep, golden honey color. Then I had to look down, to reassemble my now-tangled thoughts.

"Why the traffic jam last night?" I demanded, still looking away. "I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don't exist, not irritating me to death."

"That was for Tyler's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." He snickered.

"You..." I gasped. I couldn't think of a bad enough word. It felt like the heat of my anger should physically burn him, but he only seemed more amused.

"And I'm not pretending you don't exist," he continued.

"So you _are_ trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler's van didn't do the job?"

Anger flashed in his tawny eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, all signs of humor gone.

"Bella, you are utterly absurd," he said, his low voice cold.

My palms tingled – I wanted so badly to hit something. I was surprised at myself. I usually didn't jump to violence as quickly as I did with him. I turned my back and started to walk away.

"Wait," he called. I kept walking, sloshing angrily through the rain. But he was next to me, easily keeping pace.

"I'm sorry, that was rude," he said as we walked. I ignored him. "I'm not saying it isn't true," he continued, "but it was rude to say it, anyway."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," he chuckled. He seemed to have recovered his good humor.

"Do you have a multiple personality disorder?" I asked severely.

"You're doing it again."

Doing what? I was just being honest, unlike the person talking to me ever was. I sighed. "Fine then. What do you want to ask?"

"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday – you know, the day of the Winter Ball –"

"Are you trying to be _funny_?" I interrupted him, wheeling toward him. My face got drenched as I looked up at his expression.

His eyes were wickedly amused. "Will you please allow me to finish?"

I bit my lip and clasped my hands together, interlocking my fingers, so I couldn't do anything rash.

"I heard that you weren't planning on going to do the dance, so I was wondering if maybe you'd want to spend the day with me instead as I wasn't planning on going either."

I blinked. That sounded suspiciously like he was asking me out on a date.

"What?" I asked, I wanted to be a hundred percent sure I understood him.

"Well I was thinking about hiking to a little meadow that day. It's a favorite place of mine. I thought you might enjoy it too."

Hiking? Me? Did he not pay attention at lunch or in the one class we shared. In spite of my heart beating a mile a minute at the thought of being alone. With him. It was easy to refuse.

"I'm sorry, I'm actually planning on driving to Tacoma that day. Since the week after is the autumn, break, I was going to spend a few days there."

"Oh, hmm..." he trailed off as if unsure what to do, then his eyes lit up, the amusement was back. "Well what if I gave you a ride there?"

" _WHY?"_ I was totally stunned.

"Well, I need to go down that way in the next few weeks anyways to pick up things that I can't find locally. Besides, to be honest, I'm not sure your truck can make it."

"My truck works just fine, thank you very much for your concern." I started to walk again, but I was too surprised to maintain the same level of anger.

"But can your truck make it on one tank of gas?" He matched my pace again.

"I don't see how that is any of your business." Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business."

"Honestly, Edward." I felt a thrill go through me as I said his name, and I hated it. "I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my friend."

"I said it would be better if weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be."

"Oh, thanks, now that that's _all_ cleared up." Heavy sarcasm. I realized I had stopped walking again. We were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof now, so I could more easily look at his face. Which certainly didn't help my clarity of thought.

"It would be more... _prudent_ for you not to be my friend," he explained. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella."

His eyes were gloriously intense and serious as he uttered that last sentence, his voice smoldering. I couldn't remember how to breathe.

"Will you go with me to Tacoma?" he asked, still intense.

I still couldn't remember how to breathe so I shook my head before finally remembering how. "We're not talking about a one day trip to Tacoma, I plan on being there a few days."

"So? It could be fun. I get tired of small town life as much as the next person."

"So, are you suggesting we share a hotel room? My father is the chief of police. I doubt if he'd go for it if you were blood, let alone anything short of that."

"Don't be ridiculous, we'd get separate rooms. If you're really worried, we could even stay at different hotels. Or at the very least, be on different floors."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious, Bella. Come on. Say yes."

I opened my mouth to do just that, then I thought of Charlie, of what I'd told him just last night. I couldn't do it. "No." I knew if it was a single day, no amount of power would have made me say no.

He glowered, his face frustrated.

"We'll talk about it at lunch." He paused, taking a breath that appeared unnecessary. "You really _should_ stay away from me."

He turned abruptly and walked back the way we'd come.

* * *

 **AN:** I know I've been gone a long time. I could write a very lengthy explanation about why (we're talking twenty plus pages here). But here is the TLDR version of it. Major writer's block, busy with job, busy with kids, busy with real life, remembering why pregnancy is not something I wanted to go through again. And once again, severe writer's block.


	6. Chapter 5 - Blood Type

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 5 – Blood Type**

I made my way to English in a daze. I didn't even realize when I first walked in that class had already started.

"Thank you for joining us, Ms. Swan," Mr. Mason said in a disparaging tone.

I flushed and hurried to my seat. That was the second time I'd been late to a class in two days. I never used to be late to classes.

It wasn't till the end of class that I realized that Mike was completely missing from class. It was strange for him. Mike didn't care all that much about his grades, but even so, he always took care to be where he should be and be there on time so he could continue to play football. Mike's big dream was to get a football scholarship and get out of this town. He didn't want to take over his parents store, even though that's what his parents wanted for him.

He met Eric and I at the door just outside of class.

"Where the hell were you?" I muttered to him.

"As far as Mr. Mason is concerned... I had the stomach flu and couldn't make it to my first class."

I knew a lie when I heard one, and apparently so did Eric because he asked, "And where were you really."

"I overslept, okay."

Mike seemed to gain enthusiasm after that, telling us about the weather report for this weekend. The rain was supposed to take a minor break and there was supposed to be actual sun for a change. As such, Mike thought the trip to La Push might be possible. I asked who all he was planning on inviting so I could gauge my own excitement at the idea. I loved going to La Push, but certain people tended to ruin it. Specifically, Lauren. He went through the list, getting to her name about half way through. I pressed my lips tightly together to stop myself from groaning.

The rest of the morning passed in a bit of a blur. It was difficult to believe that I hadn't just imagined what Edward had said, and the way his eyes had looked. Maybe it was just a very convincing dream that I'd confused with reality. That seemed more probable than that I really appealed to him on any level.

So I was impatient and frightened as Jessica and I entered the cafeteria. I wanted to see his face, to see if he'd gone back to the cold, indifferent person I'd known for the last several weeks. I also wanted to know if he'd really meant what he'd said about talking more at lunch, did he expect me to join his family at their table? The very thought caused a level nausea that even I was unfamiliar with. Jessica babbled on and on about her dance plans, completely unaware of my inattention.

Disappointment flooded through me as my eyes unerringly focused on his table. The other four were there, but he was absent. Had he gone home? I followed the still-babbling Jessica through the line, crushed. I'd lost my appetite – I bought nothing but a bottle of lemonade. I just wanted to go sit down and sulk.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you again," Jessica said, finally breaking through my abstraction. "I wonder why he's sitting alone today."

My head snapped up. I followed her gaze to see Edward, smiling crookedly, staring at me from an empty table across the cafeteria from where he usually sat. Once he'd caught my eye, he raised one hand and motioned with his index finger for me to join him. As I stared in disbelief, he winked.

"Does he mean _you_?" Jessica asked with insulting astonishment in her voice.

"Yeah, he wants to talk to me about my plans for next weekend," I said without thinking and instantly regretting it.

"Are you going with him to the dance?" she hissed.

"I already told you, I'm not going to the dance," I said as he tilted his finger at me again. "I need to go over there."

"You _will_ tell me what is going on later."

I barely heard her as I walked towards him, but I could definitely feel her staring holes in my back.

When I reached his table, I stood behind the chair across from him, unsure.

"Why don't you sit with me today?" he asked, smiling.

I sat down automatically, watching him with caution. He was still smiling. It was hard to believe that someone so beautiful could be real. I was afraid that he might disappear in a sudden puff of smoke, and I would wake up.

He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

"This is different." I finally managed.

"Well..." He paused, and then the rest of words followed in a rush. "I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."

I waited for him to say something that made sense. The seconds ticked by.

"You know I don't have any idea what you mean," I eventually pointed out.

"I know." He smiled again, and then he changed the subject. "I think your friends are angry with me for stealing you."

"They'll get over it." I could feel their stares boring into my back.

"I may not give you back, though," he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

I narrowed my eyes. "Yes, lets talk about that. Back to our conversation this morning. There's no way I'm riding to Tacoma with you."

"We'd get there faster in my car. Does your truck even get up to fifty?"

It did, wheezing like an old man that smoke three packs a day his whole life while doing so. It wouldn't get up to sixty though. "I don't need to get there _fast_. I just need to get there in one piece."

"I'd get you there in one piece."

"You're a freshman, how are you even driving? You should be fifteen, which makes it illegal. My dad's a cop, remember."

"I was held back in middle school. I'm sixteen, and I have my license. If you'd like, I could show it to you." The way he said it, made it sound like he was suggesting he could show me something else too.

I shook my head. "So? That doesn't make us taking a several day trip together a good idea."

"Well, I'm tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up." He was still smiling, but his ocher eyes were serious.

He was back to being mystifying. "Giving up?"

"Yes – giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." His smile faded as he explained, and a hard edge crept into his voice.

"You've completely lost me."

The breathtaking crooked smile reappeared.

"I always say too much when I'm talking to you – that's one of the problems."

"Don't worry – I don't understand any of it," I said wryly.

"I'm counting on that."

"So..." I trailed off when he started talk.

"Why are you wanting to go to Tacoma anyways?"

"There's an open house at the police academy. I wanted to go and visit."

"So you want to be a cop?"

"Yes." My voice was sharp, I didn't want him making fun of me.

"It's a noble career path." He paused as if thinking of what to say next. "Cops often ride in pairs, you know."

"The answer's still no."

"Come on, it would be fun. You, me, two hundred miles of open road. No annoying busy bodies to gossip about it." His eyes flashed to his own family as he said the last part while my own mind went towards my friends sitting at the table not all that far behind me.

"No, Edward." It was getting harder and harder for me to say no to this request, but if my dad found out he'd kill me. And him. Not necessarily in that order. "If you want to go out on a date with me, then let's go out on a date. Go to a movie or out to eat or something. But this, spending several days with you in a different town... That's too fast."

He groaned. "Fine. We'll talk about it more later."

"Does all this –" I waved my hand in a way that could mean nothing or anything. "Mean that we're friends now?

"Friends..." he mused, dubious.

"Or not," I muttered.

He grinned. "Well, we can try, I suppose. But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you." Behind his smile, the warning was real.

"You say that a lot," I noted, trying to ignore the sudden trembling in my stomach and keep my voice even.

"Yes, because you're not listening to me. I'm still waiting for you to believe it. If you're smart, you'll avoid me."

"I think you've made your opinion on the subject of my intellect clear, too." My eyes narrowed.

He smiled apologetically.

"So, as long as I'm being...not smart, we'll try to be friends?" I struggled to sum up the confusing exchange while secretly hoping he'd say we'd be more.

"That sounds about right."

I looked down at my hands wrapped around the lemonade bottle, not sure what to do now.

"What are you thinking?" he asked curiously.

I looked up into his deep gold eyes, and, as usual, blurted out the truth.

"I'm trying to figure out who you are."

His jaw tightened, but he kept his smile in place with some effort.

"Are you having any luck with that?" he asked in an offhand tone.

"Not too much," I admitted.

He chuckled. "What are your theories?"

I blushed. I didn't want to admit to him about my thoughts of witness protection or undercover cop, or worse, some modern day Bruce Wayne. There was no way I was owning up to any of it.

"Won't you tell me?" he asked, tilting his head to one side with a shockingly tempting smile.

I shook my head. "Too embarrassing."

"That's _really_ frustrating, you know," he complained.

"No," I disagreed quickly, my eyes narrowing. "I can't _imagine_ why that would be frustrating at all – just because someone refuses to tell you what they're thinking, even if all the while making cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering what they could possibly mean...now, why would that be frustrating?"

He grimaced.

"Or better," I continued, my pent-up annoyance flowing freely now as I worked up to a tangent the same way my dad liked too. "Say that person also did a wide range of bizarre things – from saving your life under suspicious circumstances one day to treating you like a pariah the next, and he never explained any of that, either. That, also, would be _very_ non-frustrating."

I took a breath so I could continue, but he beat me to it.

"You've got a bit of a temper, don't you?"

"I don't like double standards."

We stared at each other, unsmiling.

He glanced over my shoulder, and then, unexpectedly, he snickered.

"What?"

"Your boyfriend seems to think I'm being unpleasant to you – he's debating whether or not to come break up our fight." He snickered again.

I knew without looking behind me that he was talking about Mike and not Tyler. Tyler and I might have dated for two years, but Tyler didn't have a chivalrous bone in his body.

"I don't have a boyfriend. Or didn't you hear? I broke up with mine."

"I find it interesting that you didn't debate the accuracy of my statement."

"I've known most of them at that table my whole life. I'd actually be a bit surprised if one of them wasn't getting fidgety." I resisted the urge to look behind me. "I don't usually hang with other people."

My words seemed to distract him. "Aren't you hungry?" he asked suddenly.

"No." I didn't feel like mentioning that my stomach was already full – of butterflies. "You?" I looked at the empty table in front of him.

"No, I'm not hungry." I didn't understand his expression – it looked like he was enjoying some private joke.

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked after a second of hesitation.

He was suddenly wary. "That depends on what you want."

"It's not much," I assured him.

He waited, guarded but curious.

"I just wondered...if you could warn me beforehand the next time you decide to ignore me for my own good. Just so I'm prepared." I looked at the lemonade bottle as I spoke, tracing the circle of the opening with my pinkie finger.

"That sounds fair." He was pressing his lips together to keep from laughing when I looked up.

"Thanks."

"Then can I get one answer in return?" he demanded.

"One."

"Tell me _one_ theory."

Whoops. "Not that one."

"You didn't qualify, you just promised one answer," he reminded me.

"And you've broken promises yourself," I reminded him back.

"Just one theory – I won't laugh."

"Yes, you will." I was positive about that, unless I was correct, and in that case, there'd be some serious backlash.

He looked down, and then glanced up at me through his long black lashes, his ocher eyes scorching.

"Please?" he breathed, leaning toward me.

I blinked, my mind going blank. Holy crow, how did he _do_ that?

"Er, what?" I asked, dazed.

"Please tell me just one little theory." His eyes still smoldered at me.

"Um, well. I originally thought you might be in witness protection. Except the whole point of witness protection is to blend in to the new surroundings your placed in. And if that's the case, you guys have failed completely." Was he a hypnotist? Or was I just a hopeless pushover?

"You said originally, so you don't still think that?"

"Correct, if that was the case, you'd have moved on within days of when you shoved me out of the way of Tyler's van."

He scowled at the reminder. "Then that's not a current theory."

I parroted his own words back to him, "You didn't qualify."

"One current theory, please?" He looked up at me from under his lashes again.

It was impossible for me to say no. "Okay, undercover cop." I barely breathed the words.

I heard Emmett's uproarious laughter. Edward spun to glare at his family's table. If I didn't know that it was impossible for him to have heard me, I'd almost think Emmett was laughing at my idea.

Edward slowly turned to me, an amused smile gracing his face. "I'm afraid not."

"You said you wouldn't laugh," I reminded him as his lips twitched.

He worked to compose his face.

"I'll figure it out eventually," I warned him.

"I wish you wouldn't try." He was serious again.

"Because...?"

"What if I'm not the good guy in this story?" He smiled playfully, but his eyes were impenetrable.

"Oh," I said, as several things he'd said suddenly started to make sense. My mind spun off in a different direction, creating a new list of possibilities. "I see."

"Do you?" His face was abruptly severe, as if he were afraid that he'd accidentally said too much.

"You're dangerous?" I guessed, my pulse quickening as I intuitively realized the truth of my own words. He _was_ dangerous. He'd been trying to tell me that all along.

He just looked at me, eyes full of some emotion I couldn't comprehend.

"But not bad," I whispered, shaking my head. "No I don't believe that you're bad." He might be the son of someone in the mafia, or a born gang member, or maybe something like an MI6 spy, but I refused to believe that he was truly bad.

"You're wrong." His voice was almost inaudible. He looked down, stealing my bottle lid and then spinning it on it's side between his fingers. I stared at him, wondering why I didn't feel afraid. He meant what he was saying – that was obvious. But I just felt anxious, on edge...and, more than anything else, fascinated. The same way I always felt when I was near him.

The silence lasted until I noticed the clock on the cafeteria wall.

I jumped to my feet. "We're going to be late."

"Yes, I suppose we are," he said, twirling the lid so fast it was just a blur.

I arched an eyebrow at him. "Are you coming or not?"

"I'll be there in a minute."

I gave him a disparaging look then rushed to the cafeteria door and headed to class, half running the whole way.

As soon as I stepped in the class, Mr Berty gave me a glare. I winced, but at least he didn't call me out on it this time. I hurried to my desk, spinning it to face inward. I quickly did the same with Edward's and then sat down. I pulled out my partial essay, but I couldn't concentrate, instead, glancing at the door every few seconds.

Finally Edward walked in about fine minutes later. Mr. Berty opened his mouth but Edward handed him a slip of paper. I frowned in confusion.

When Edward sat across from me he murmured, "Thanks for turning my desk."

I shrugged.

He bent down and pulled out a small stack of papers and handed them to me. "I've been very remiss with you on our project. It was supposed to be a shared essay and instead we've both been working on it on our own. Here, read over what I've so far wrote. While I look over your work." He grabbed my papers before I could stop him.

I glanced down at the pages he gave me, amazed by the elegant hand written text. I started to read what he'd written, getting lost in his essay, which was much more all encompassing than my own.

I didn't notice the passing of time until the bell rang, signaling the end of class. I handed him his paper back and we both got up, turning our desks to face the front.

I was about to say something to Edward when I happened to look up and saw Alice standing at the doorway. She made a come here motion to Edward.

"I'll see you later," he said softly, then headed over to meet Alice.

I walked out the door, and headed to biology, passing Alice and Edward as I went, unable to help but overhear Alice as she was talking. "You want to skip class and be outside, trust me. I've seen it."

I didn't know what to make of her words to Edward, so frowning, I continued to class.

There was a small cardboard in front of each person's seats on the lab tables. I took my normal seat beside Ashley.

"Okay, guys, I want you all to take the three items out of the box in front of you," Mr. Banner said as he produced a pair of rubber gloves from the pocket of his lab jacket and pulled them on. The sharp sound as the gloves snapped into place against his wrists seemed ominous to me. "The first item should be an indicator card," he went on, grabbing a white card with four squares marked on it and displaying it. "The second is a four pronged applicator –" he help up something that looked like a nearly toothless hair pick "– and the third is a sterile micro-lancet." He held up a small piece of blue plastic and split it open. The barb was invisible from this distance, but I knew what a lancet was and my stomach flipped.

"I'll be coming around with a dropper of water to prepare your cards, so please don't start until I get to you." He began at Conner's table at the front of the class, carefully putting one drop of water in each of the four squares. "Then I want you to carefully prick your finger with the lancet..." He grabbed Conner's hand and jabbed the spike into the tip of Conner's middle finger. Oh no. Clammy moisture broke out across my forehead.

"Put a small drop of blood on each of the four prongs." He demonstrated, squeezing Conner's finger till the blood flowed. I swallowed convulsively, my stomach heaving.

"And then apply it to the card," he finished, holding up the dripping red card for us to see. I closed my eyes, trying to hear through the ringing in my ears.

"The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I thought you should all know your blood type." He sounded proud of himself. "Those of you who aren't eighteen yet will need a parent's permission – I have slips at my desk."

He continued through the room with his water drops. I put my cheek against the cool black tabletop and tried to hold on to my consciousness. All around I could hear squeals, complaints and giggles as my classmates skewered their fingers. I breathed slowly in and out through my mouth.

"Bella, are you alright?" Mr. Banner asked. His voice was close to my head, and it sounded alarmed.

"I already know my blood type, Mr. Banner," I said in a weak voice. As many times as I'd been to the hospital over the years, I could probably tell him more about my blood than even he'd understand. I was afraid to raise my head and try to look at him.

"Are you feeling faint?"

"Yes, sir," I muttered, thinking it was quite obvious that I was.

"Can someone take Bella to the nurse, please?" he called.

I didn't have to look to know it would be Mike who volunteered.

"Can you walk?" Mr. Banner asked.

"Yes," I whispered. Just let me get out of here, I thought. I'll crawl.

Mike seemed eager as he put his arm around my waist and pulled my arm over his shoulder. I leaned against him heavily on the way out of the classroom.

Mike towed me slowly across campus. When we were around the edge of the cafeteria, out of site of building in case Mr. Banner was watching, I stopped.

"Just let me sit for a minute, please?" I begged.

He helped me to sit on the edge of the walk.

I didn't think he'd done the lab yet... but just in case. "Whatever you do, keep any bleeding fingers in your pocket." I was still so dizzy. I slumped over on my side, putting my cheek against the freezing, damp cement of the sidewalk, closing my eyes. That seemed to help a little.

"Wow, you're green, Bella," Mike said nervously.

"Bella?" a different voice called from the distance.

No! Please let me be imagining that horribly familiar voice.

"What's wrong – is she hurt?" His voice was closer now, and he sounded upset. I wasn't imagining it. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to die. Or, at the very least, not to throw up.

Mike seemed stressed. "I think she fainted. I don't know what happened, she didn't even stick her finger."

"Bella." Edward's voice was right beside me, relieved now. "Can you hear me?"

"No," I groaned. "Go away."

He chuckled.

"I was taking her to the nurse," Mike explained in a defensive tone, "but she wouldn't go any farther."

"I'll take her. You can go back to class."

"No," Mike protested. "I'm supposed to do it."

Suddenly the sidewalk disappeared from beneath me. My eyes flew open in shock. Edward had scooped me up in his arms, as easily as if I weighed ten pounds instead of a hundred and ten.

"Put me down!" Please, please let me not vomit on him. He was walking before I was finished talking.

"Hey!" Mike called, already ten paces behind us.

Edward ignored him. "You look awful," he told me, grinning.

"Put me back on the sidewalk," I moaned. The rocking movement of his walk was not helping. He held me away from his body, gingerly, supporting all my weight with just his arms – it didn't seem to bother him.

"So you faint at the sight of blood?" he asked. This seemed to entertain him.

I didn't answer. I closed my eyes again and fought the nausea with all my strength, clamping my lips together.

"And not even your own blood," he continued, enjoying himself.

I don't know how he opened the door while carrying me, but it was suddenly warm, so I knew we were inside.

"Oh my," I heard Ms. Cope gasp.

"She fainted in Biology," Edward explained.

I opened my eyes. I was in the office, and Edward was striding past the front counter toward the nurse's door. Ms. Cope, ran ahead of him to hold it open. Mrs. Hammond looked up from a harlequin novel, astonished, as Edward swung me into the room and placed me gently on the crackly paper that covered the brown vinyl mattress on the one cot. Then he moved to stand against the wall as far across the narrow room as possible. His eyes were bright, excited.

"Well, it's too early in the day for a gym injury," Mrs Hammond said, staring at me like a bug under an inspection lamp.

"Blood testing in biology. Fainted," I muttered, wishing she'd go scrutinize something else already.

"Figures you'd be the one," she murmured.

I narrowed my eyes at her.

Against the wall, Edward muffled a snicker.

I turned my glare on him.

"Just lie down for a minute, Bella; it'll pass."

"I know," I sighed. The nausea was already fading. I closed my eyes, leaning back against the brick that the school thought passed for a pillow.

Edward coughed, trying to hide another laugh.

"You can go back to your class now," she told him.

"I'm not taking a class during this period," he said, there was so much authority in his voice that if I didn't know for a fact that there aren't any free periods for freshmen, I'd almost believe him.

Mrs. Hammond, who should know better, as she'd been the nurse here for over thirty years, fell for it though.

"I'll go get some ice for your forehead, Bella," she said to me, and then bustled out of the room.

"I think your sister had the right idea," I moaned.

"What do you mean?"

"She suggested you skip class. I think I should have joined you."

"You heard that?"

"Yes, what did she mean by 'I've seen it', anyways?" If I'd felt better, I would have mimed quotation marks for her words.

"No clue, she's cryptic like that."

I didn't know why, but I was pretty sure he was lying.

"You scared me for a minute there," he admitted after a pause. His tone made it sound like he was confessing a humiliating weakness. "I thought Newton was dragging your dead body off to bury it in the woods."

"Ha ha." I still had my eyes closed, but I was feeling more normal every minute.

"Honestly – I've seen corpses with better color. I was concerned that I might have to avenge your murder."

And for some reason, that sounded like complete honesty, my suspicion of him being mafia grew.

"Poor Mike. I'll bet he's mad."

"He absolutely loathes me," Edward said cheerfully.

"Probably," I agreed. With the way Mike had been trying to get me to go out with him lately, he'd despise anyone that got in his way.

"How did you see me, anyways?" I was almost fine now, though the queasiness would probably pass faster if I'd actually eaten anything for lunch. On the other hand, maybe it was lucky my stomach was empty.

"I was standing around outside, like my sister told me to." His voice was wry.

"Do you always obey your sister?"

"When she makes those kind of suggestions. Yes."

I heard the door and opened my eyes to see the nurse with a cold compress in her hand.

"Here you go, Bella." She laid it across my forehead. "You're looking better," she added.

"I think I'm fine," I said, sitting up, just a little ringing in my ears, no spinning. The mint green walls stayed where they should.

I could see she was about to make me lie back down, but the door opened just then, and Ms. Cope stuck her head in.

"We've got another one," she warned.

I hopped down to free up the cot for the next invalid.

I handed the compress back to the nurse. "Here, I don't need this."

And then Mike staggered through the door, now supporting a sallow-looking Lee Stephens. Edward and I drew back against the wall to give them room.

"Oh no," Edward muttered. "Go out to the office, Bella"

I looked up at him, bewildered.

"Trust me – go."

I spun and caught the door before it closed, darting out of the infirmary. I could feel Edward right behind me.

"You actually listened to me." He was stunned.

"I smelled the blood," I said, wrinkling my nose. Lee wasn't sick from watching other people, like me.

"People can't smell blood," he contradicted.

"Well, I can – that's what makes me sick. It smells like rust...and salt."

He was staring at me with an unfathomable expression.

"What?" I asked.

"It's nothing."

Mike came through the door then, glancing from me to Edward. The look he gave Edward confirmed what Edward had said about loathing. He looked back at me. His eyes glum.

" _You_ look better," he accused.

"Just keep you hand in your pocket," I warned him.

"It's not bleeding anymore," he muttered. "Are you going back to class?" I heard what he didn't say, _can I take you back to class?_

"Are you kidding? I'd just have to turn around and come back."

"Yeah. I guess...So are you going this weekend? To the beach?" While he spoke, he flashed another glare toward Edward, making it quite clear that he didn't want Edward to come along.

I decided to knock him down a peg or two. "Certainly. I haven't seen Jacob in a while. It'll be good to see him again."

He gritted his teeth at my words while Edward's hands clenched where he was standing. Perhaps I hadn't thought that comment through. Though honestly, as far as Edward knew, Jacob was a dog.

"We're going to meet at my dad's store at ten." His eyes flashed to Edward's again. He didn't want him going, too bad I had as much right to invite someone as he did.

"I'll be there," I promised.

"I'll see you in gym, then," he said, moving uncertainly toward the door.

"See you," I replied. He looked at me once more, his round face slightly pouting, and then as he walked slowly through the door, his shoulders slumped. A swell of sympathy washed over me. I pondered seeing his sad face again... in gym.

"Gym," I groaned.

"I can take care of that." I hadn't noticed Edward moving to my side, but he spoke now in my ear. "Go sit down and look pale," he muttered.

That wasn't difficult; I was always pale, and my recent swoon had left a light sheen of sweat on my face. I sat in one of the creaky folding chairs and rested my head against the wall with my eyes closed. Fainting spells always exhausted me.

I heard Edward speaking softly at the counter.

"Ms. Cope?"

"Yes?" I hadn't heard her return to her desk.

"Bella has gym next hour, and I don't think she feels well enough. Actually, I was thinking I should take her home now. Do you think you could excuse her from class?" His voice was like melted honey. I could imagine how much more overwhelming his eyes would be.

"Do you need to be excused, too, Edward?" Ms. Cope fluttered. Why couldn't I do that?

"No, I have Mrs. Goff, she won't mind."

"Okay, it's all taken care of. You feel better, Bella," she called to me. I nodded weakly, hamming it up just a bit.

"Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you again?" With his back to the receptionist, his expression became sarcastic.

Part of me actually wanted him to carry me. I was being absurd. "I'll walk."

I stood carefully, and I was still fine. He held the door for me, his smile polite but his eyes mocking. I walked out into the cold, fine mist that had just begun to fall. It felt nice, as it washed my face clean of the sticky perspiration.

"Thanks," I said as he followed me out. "It's almost worth getting sick to miss gym."

"Anytime." He was staring straight forward, squinting into the rain.

"So do you want to go? This Saturday, I mean?" I was hoping he would, though it seemed unlikely. I couldn't picture him loading up to carpool with the rest of the kids from school; he didn't belong in the same world. But just hoping that he might, made me ask.

"Where are you all going, exactly?" He was still looking ahead, expressionless.

"Down to La Push, to First Beach." I studied his face, trying to read it. His eyes seemed to narrow infinitesimally.

He glance down at me from the corner of his eye, smiling wryly. "I really don't think I was invited."

Had he not heard my invitation? "I just did."

"Let's you and I not push Mike any further this week. We don't want him to snap." His eyes danced; he was enjoying the idea more than he should.

"Mike-schmike," I muttered, preoccupied by the way he'd said "you and I." I liked it more than _I_ should.

We were near the parking lot now. I veered left, toward my truck. Something caught my jacket, yanking me back.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, outraged. He was gripping a fistful of my jacket in one hand.

I was confused. "I'm going home."

"Didn't you hear me promise to take you safely home? Do you think I'm going to let you drive in your condition?" His voice was still indignant.

"What condition? And what about my truck?" I complained.

"I'll have Alice drop it off after school." He was towing me toward his car now, pulling me by my jacket. It was all I could do to keep from falling backward. He'd probably just drag me along anyway if I did.

"Let go!" I insisted. He ignored me. I staggered along sideways across the wet sidewalk until we reached the Volvo. The he finally freed me – I stumbled against the passenger door.

"You are so _pushy_!" I grumbled.

"It's open," was all he responded. He got in the driver's side.

"I am perfectly capable of driving myself home!" I stood by the car, fuming. It was raining harder now, and I'd never put my hood up, so my hair was dripping down my back.

He lowered the automatic window and leaned toward me across the seat. "Get in, Bella."

I didn't answer. I was mentally calculating my chances of reaching my truck before he could catch me. I had to admit, they weren't good.

"I'll just drag you back," he threatened, guessing my plan.

I tried to maintain what dignity I could as I got into his car. I wasn't very successful – I looked like a half-drowned cat and my boots squeaked.

"This is completely unnecessary," I said stiffly.

He didn't answer. He fiddled with the controls, turning the heater up and the music down. As he pulled out of the parking lot, I was preparing to give him the silent treatment – my face in full pout mode – but then I recognized the music playing, and my curiosity got the better of my intentions.

"Clair de Lune?" I asked, surprised.

"You know Debussy?" He sounded surprised, too.

"Not well," I admitted. "I only know this one because my mother sent me a music box that played it one year." I smiled, remembering the gift, one of only a few that my mother had actually truly thought out. Christmas cards with fifty dollar checks that usually bounced and three day late birthday cards didn't count.

I listened to the music, relaxing against the light gray leather seat. It was impossible not to respond to the familiar, soothing melody. The rain blurred everything outside the window into gray and green smudges. I began to realize we were driving very fast; the car moved so steadily, so evenly, though, I didn't feel the speed. Only the town flashing by gave it away.

"What is your mother like?" he asked me suddenly.

I glanced over to see him studying me with curious eyes.

"She looks a lot like me, but she's prettier," I said. He raised his eyebrows. "I have too much Charlie in me. She's more outgoing than I am, and braver. She's irresponsible and more than a little eccentric. She likes adventure, she likes to live. And she's part of the biggest scandal this town has seen in over fifty years." I bit my lip. He didn't need to know about that, assuming he didn't already.

"And your dad?"

"Charlie is my rock and foundation. I've been able to grow up with firm morals and strong ethics, thanks to him. He's the reason that I go to school and come home every day. His cooking sucks and he often wouldn't know where his keys were if it weren't for me. But he's the most amazing man in my life."

"How old are you, Bella?" His voice sounded frustrated for some reason I couldn't imagine. He'd stopped the car, and I realized we were at Charlie's house already. The rain was so heavy that I could barely see the house at all. It was like the car was submerged under a river.

"I'm seventeen," I responded, a little confused.

"You don't seem seventeen."

His tone was reproachful; it made me laugh.

"What?" he asked, curious again.

"Whenever I visit my mom, she always tells me that I was born thirty-five years old and that I get more middle-aged every year." I laughed, and then sighed. "Well, someone has to be the adult." I paused for a second. "You don't seem much like a freshman in high school yourself," I noted.

He made a face and changed the subject.

"So why did you go to Panama?"

"My mother got remarried late this summer. She wanted me to be her maid of honor. Then she wanted me to go with them on their honeymoon. To panama. I didn't really want to be gone from Charlie that long, but it was sort of a once in a lifetime experience for me. I'm glad I went."

"Do you approve of who she married?" he asked.

"Does it matter?" I countered. "I want her to be happy...and he is who she wants." There was the smallest bitter note in my voice. Did part of me wish she'd been happy with Charlie? Yes. But that ship had long ago sailed.

"That's very generous...I wonder," he mused.

"What?"

"Would she extend the same courtesy to you, do you think? No matter who your choice was?" He was suddenly intent, his eyes searching mine.

"She wouldn't care." I laughed out loud, remembering when I called her two years ago to tell her I was going out on my first date. Her only advise at the time had been to buy condoms. Apparently you couldn't trust guys to have them.

"What?" he demanded.

"Maybe I'll tell you some other day."

He frowned. "And what would your dad think?"

"As long as whoever it is, doesn't touch, kiss or even look at me...he'd love it. Otherwise, I'd avoid him when he has his gun."

He laughed at that.

"So now are you going to tell me about your family?" I asked to distract him "It's got to be more interesting than mine."

He was instantly cautious. "What do you wanna know?"

"The Cullens adopted you?" I verified.

"Yes."

I hesitated for a moment. "What happened to your parent?"

"They died many years ago." His tone was matter-of-fact.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"I don't really remember them that clearly. Carlisle and Esme have been my parents for a long time now."

"And you love them." It wasn't a question. It was obvious in the way he spoke of them.

"Yes." He smiled. "I couldn't imaging two better people."

"You're very lucky."

"I know I am."

"And your brother and sister?"

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

"My brother and sister, and Jasper and Rosalie for that matter, are going to be quite upset if they have to stand in the rain waiting for me."

"Oh, sorry, I guess you have to go." I didn't want to get out of the car.

"And you probably want your truck back before Chief Swan gets home, so you don't have to tell him about the Biology incident." He grinned at me.

"I'm sure he's already heard. There are no secrets in Forks."

He laughed, and there was an edge to his laughter.

"Have fun at the beach...good weather for sunbathing." He glanced out at the sheeting rain.

"Won't I see you tomorrow?"

"No, Emmett and I are starting the weekend early."

"What are you going to do?" A friend could ask that, right? I hoped the disappointment wasn't too apparent in my voice.

"We're going to be hiking in the Goat Rocks Wilderness, just south of Rainier."

I knew the area. It was a strange place to go, what with all the grizzlies.

"Take a shotgun, and have fun." I honestly couldn't imagine them having fun there.

A smile played on around the edge of lips. "Will you do something for me this weekend?" He turned to look me straight in the face, utilizing the full power of his burning gold eyes.

I nodded helplessly.

"Don't be offended, but you seem to be one of those people who just attract accidents like a magnet. So...try not to fall into the ocean or get run over or anything, all right?" He smiled crookedly.

The helplessness had faded as he spoke. I glared at him.

"I'll see what I can do," I snapped as I jumped out into the rain. I slammed the door behind me with excessive force.

He drove off, smiling.

. . .

It wasn't until after I was inside and he was gone, that I realized he'd never given me my essay back.


	7. Chapter 6 - Scary Stories

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **AN:** I had a lot of fun altering this chapter to show an event that wasn't in the original Twilight, but one that was necessary for the sake of this version of Bella, who needed to be hit with a metaphorical 2x4 to start believing in the supernatural.

 **Chapter 6 – Scary Stories**

As I sat in my room, trying to concentrate on the third act of _Macbeth_ , but I was really listening for my truck. I would have thought, even over the pounding rain, I could have heard the engine's roar. But when I went to peak out the window – again – it was suddenly there.

Friday came far too fast for my liking, and the first thing I heard were the whispers about my fainting spell. It was as if my friends had never seen me unconscious before. They _all_ had. Lauren was especially busy on the rumor mill end, and she wasn't even in the same biology class as me.

When Trig rolled around, Jessica shooed Melvin, a shy kid in class who rarely spoke to anyone, out of the seat next to me so she could sit there. I grimaced.

"So what is with Edward and you?"

"We're friends."

"Kissing friends?"

"No, just friends. You know, normal, every day friends."

"You mentioned plans for next weekend."

"I'm planning a trip to Tacoma. He wants to drive me there."

"That sound like more than just friends to me."

A dozen different replies crossed my mind, but as I didn't want to completely piss her off, I just shrugged. "Perhaps we're heading toward something more, but we aren't there yet."

The worst part about Friday was that, even though I knew he wasn't going to be there, I still hoped. When I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica and Mike, I couldn't keep from looking at his table, where Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper sat talking, heads close together. And I couldn't stop the gloom that engulfed me as I realized I didn't know how long I would have to wait before I saw him again.

At my usual table, everyone was full of our plans for the next day. Mike was animated again, putting a great deal of trust in the local weatherman who promised sun tomorrow. Unfortunately, sun turned out to be a pipe dream more often than not. As long as it didn't start raining too heavily though, we could still make a driftwood fire, and go surfing – at least for those that did. I could paddle board, if the water wasn't too turbulent, but my two attempts at actual surfing a wave over the years had both ended with me almost drowning, which was just sad since I actually could swim pretty well.

Lauren kept on glancing at me maliciously, which didn't exactly surprise me, except for the fact that her animosity seemed to be more front and center today than normal. Apparently sitting with Edward yesterday didn't earn me any favors with her. I couldn't really complain though, our bridge had been burnt years ago.

I tried to ignore her sneering attitude as best as possible

. . .

That night, I called Jacob, the Blacks phone range four times and then went to voicemail without any preamble. It wouldn't surprise me if Jacob and Billy were at the Clearwaters' house or Atearas.

"Hey, asshat, it's Bella. You know, you don't call, you don't write, I'd almost think you don't love me or something." I almost felt guilty for saying it as I hadn't bothered to call or write either since I'd been back, but he was the one that had convinced his dad to foist 'the dinosaur' – his words, not mine – off on me. I'd owed him a bit of silent treatment. Even if I was falling in love with the truck. "Anyways, I'm going to be coming to First Beach tomorrow. I expect you to be there. I owe you a hug."

Of all the friends I had in and around Forks, ours was the oldest. I couldn't really remember a time that I didn't know him. Sarah, Jacob's mom, used to babysit me when I was an infant while Charlie worked. Of course, she died when Jacob was nine, and then a couple years later, Billy lost the ability to use his legs to Diabetes.

When Charlie got home, I advised him I was going to La Push on Saturday. He was happy about that, but wasn't as excited about the Eggplant Parmesan I made. Even though he couldn't dispute that it tasted good.

. . .

I meant to sleep in, but an unusual brightness woke me. I opened my eyes to see a clear yellow light streaming through my window. I couldn't believe it. I hurried to the window to check, and sure enough, there was the sun. I went to my calendar and marked it, just like I always did when the sun made an actual appearance. My comment of the day was, _**Mercury in retrograde.**_ I'd use another snarky comment the next time it occurred.

When it was late enough, I headed to Newton's. The Newton's Olympic Outfitters store was just north of town. I didn't go there often, except when I had to pick up something for Charlie, or if I was shopping for gifts for Billy and Harry, which Charlie always left to me to do. Lures tended to be the go to item.

In the parking lot I recognized Mike's Suburban, Tyler's Sentra, and J.D.'s very ugly panel wagon. As I pulled up next to their vehicles, I could see the group standing around in front of the Suburban. Eric was there, along with Ben and Conner. Jess was there, flanked by Angela and Lauren. To their left were Ashley, Katy and June. Mike was standing with Rob and J.D. Samantha and Lee were just pulling up in her Dodge Neon, with Samantha's two little sisters in the back, Kiera and Stacey, ages 14 and 7 respectively. I was surprised to see them along, but assumed that Samantha's mom fostered them off on her for the day. It was relatively typical.

Lee got out after they parked.

"I thought you were bringing your mom's minivan," Mike exclaimed.

Lee winced. "She needed it for something."

"Great, I guess we'll be piling into J.D.'s panel wagon and my vehicle then." Mike threw up his hands in a far too typical dramatic fashion. I hid my snicker.

Suddenly Mike turned toward me. "You can ride shotgun with me."

I grimaced. He should be offering that seat to Jessica, not me.

We loaded up Mike's vehicle first, and I managed to wedge Jessica into the bitch seat between Mike and me, appeasing her and annoying Mike at the same time. I considered it a double win.

Once the suburban was loaded up, everyone else piled in to the empty back half of J.D.'s panel wagon in a completely illegal fashion. I grimaced again.

It was only fifteen miles to La Push from Forks, with gorgeous, dense green forests edging the road most of the way and the wide Quillayute River snaking beneath it twice. I was glad I had the window seat. We'd rolled the windows down – the Suburban was a bit claustrophobic with nine people in it – and I tried to absorb as much sunlight as possible.

We finally reached the familiar mile-long crescent of First Beach. It was a breathtaking sight, even though I'd been here so many times over the years that it should be commonplace. The water was dark gray, even in the sunlight, white-capped and heaving to the gray, rocky shore. Islands rose out of the steel harbor waters with sheer cliff sides, reaching to uneven summits, and crowned with austere, soaring firs. The beach had only a thin border of actual sand at the water's edge, after which it grew into millions of large, smooth stones that looked uniformly gray from a distance, but close up they were every shade a stone could be: terra-cotta, sea green, lavender, blue gray, dull gold, and more. The tide line was strewn with huge driftwood trees, bleached bone white in the salt waves, some piled together against the edge of the forest fringe, some lying solitary, just out of reach of the waves.

I was glad now that I'd forgotten my paddle board in the back of my truck. I had my wetsuit on under my clothes, but there was no way I was going out in that water.

There was a brisk wind coming off the waves, cool and briny. Pelicans floated on the swells while seagulls and a lone eagle wheeled above them. The clouds still circled the sky, threatening to invade at any moment, but for now the sun shone bravely in its halo of blue sky.

We picked our way down to the beach, Mike leading the way to a ring of driftwood logs that we had used in the past, as had many other people. There was a fire circle already in place, filled with black ashes. Eric and Ben gathered broken branches of driftwood from the drier piles against the forest edge, and soon had a teepee-shaped construction built atop the old cinders.

While the drift wood was being made ready to set ablaze, Samantha and Lee had wandered offer, probably to find some place to make out. It left Kiera and Stacey with the rest of us. Stacey hid behind my back – part of a shyness she'd picked up after her Dad had died two years prior. She peaked under my arm as Mike picked up one of the smaller branches to light with a cigarette lighter.

He noticed her peaking. "Do you like driftwood fires?" he asked kneeling to see her better.

She nodded, letting out a giggle, then hid behind my back again.

He grinned. "You shouldn't hide. Come out and watch the pretty colors."

He lit the branch in his hand on fire. Placing it carefully against the teepee. He did the same with another smaller branch. The flames started to lick quickly up the dry wood.

"Blue," she said in an excited voice, coming out from behind me enough to really watch.

The flames kept her attention enough that she didn't notice the chatter about getting a keg down here later. Unfortunately for me, I couldn't help but overhear. It was J.D.'s idea of a really good time, but I wasn't a fan of it myself. I thought his brother, Luke, was off at college, but perhaps he knew someone else with an ID to buy alcohol.

Eventually, Mike, Conner and Ben decided to hike to the nearby tidal pools. Angela and Jessica decided to go as well. I wanted to go too, even though the hike was a pain. When Lauren said she was going to stay, I decided to follow them.

The hike wasn't all that long, but as we entered the forest, and the sun was filtered by the trees, casting a green glow, it left the place feeling strangely eerie, in spite of the laughter ahead of me. I had to watch each step I took very carefully, avoiding roots below and branches above, trying hard to obey Edward's request to be careful in spite of myself. Eventually I broke through the emerald confines of the forest and found the rocky shore again. It was low tide, and a tidal river flowed past us on its way to the sea. Along its pebbled banks, shallow pools that never completely drained were teeming with life.

I was very cautious not to lean too far over the little ocean ponds. The others were fearless, leaping over the rocks, perching precariously on the edges. I sat on one of the more stable rocks that I preferred and sat there cautiously, spellbound by the natural aquarium below me. The bouquets of brilliant anemones undulated ceaselessly in the invisible current, twisted shells scurried about the edges, obscuring the crabs within them, starfish stuck motionless to the rocks and each other, while one small eel with white racing stripes wove through the bright green weeds, waiting for the sea to return. I was completely absorbed, except for one small part of my mind that wondered what Edward was doing now, and an even smaller part of my mind wondered where the hell Jacob was.

I don't know how long we were there, but finally Mike's stomach growled loud enough that even I could hear it. We all decided to head back then. I hurried through the forest this time, and fell down a couple of times for my troubles. I knew the scrapes I got on my hands would smart tomorrow, but they weren't too bad at the moment.

When we got back to First Beach, Jacob had finally arrived, but he wasn't alone. It looked like a whole bunch of the Quileutes had decided to show. What had he done? Sent out a smoke signal? I smirked to myself at my own ingenuity.

Amongst the people that had shown up were Embry, Quil, Seth, Brady, Collin, Jessica, Kim, Paul, and several others. A little ways off from them were Sam and Jared, both of their heads had been shaved. I frowned. Had they lost some sort of bet? In general, the Quileutes were proud of their long hair, it didn't make sense why they'd cut it. Leah was a little ways away, glaring daggers at Sam.

When I reached the primary group, I headed straight for Jacob, deliberately mussing up the top of his head.

"Hey," he grumbled, trying to smooth down what I'd messed up. "Not the hair."

I laughed, reaching forward and mussing his hair again, just because I could. "I missed you when I was in Panama."

"I missed you too." I could see his blush even with his copper skin. I ignored it. Sometime over the last year he'd developed a crush on me. I'd seen it happen. But I didn't feel that way about him. I couldn't. He was too young. It was funny, because really he was only a few months younger than Edward.

"Have you heard from your sisters lately?"

"Yeah, Rebecca went and married that guy, Solomon. She sent me an invite to give to you. But you were in Panama at the time."

"Unless she also sent a plane ticket, I couldn't have gone anyway. Did you get to go?"

"Nah, couldn't afford the flight out, besides I had to stick around here. Dad was put out because he hasn't even met the guy yet and so he didn't want to go. Somebody has to be around in case dad needs anything. I don't see Rachel coming back from college to help."

I understood what he was saying completely.

"So...how are you liking the dinosaur?" he asked it super slyly, like he was trying to sneak the question by as casual.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I love it. I call it the thing."

He laughed out loud. "Only you would love that pile of scrap metal."

"It is not scrap metal," I exclaimed, perturbed by his statement.

He opened his mouth to reply.

"Well look at Isabella and Jacob sitting in a tree," Lauren mocked.

Jacob blushed again, but I turned to glare at her. "Do yourself a favor, and go get a life, Lauren Casey Mallory."

She ground her teeth together. I knew she hated her middle name, which was why I used it. Had she forgotten I knew it?

"I guess you don't really care all that much about Edward Cullen after all. I understand now why you didn't invite him. I'll be sure to make sure he knows that you are otherwise involved."

I opened my mouth to tell her that we were just friends, not sure if I was referring to Jacob and me, or Edward and me. But Sam spoke before I had the chance, his voice loud.

"Are you talking about one of Dr. Carlisle Cullen's sons?" His words were cold in a way that left no doubt of his opinion of Edward and his family.

"Yes, do you know them?" Lauren asked, turning halfway toward him.

"The Cullens don't come her," he said in a tone that closed the subject and then walked back over to Jared.

The whole thing made me super curious.

"Jake, I've got to talk to Sam for a few minutes." I told him and then headed towards where Sam was once again standing.

Jared saw me coming, and nodded his head toward me. Sam turned and met me halfway.

"Bella, it's good to see you. Will you be at the wedding?"

"Of course...but what was all that about?" I nodded back towards Lauren, to indicate what I was talking about in case he didn't know.

Instead of answering me, he lifted me in a hug, crushing me close. Suddenly his mouth was at my ear. "I smell him all over you, he's dangerous. You need to learn to keep better company, Bella." His voice was so quiet that I wouldn't have heard his words if there'd even been a foot of space between us. He sat me back on my feet. "I believe that Leah had a question for you. You should go check."

I was thoroughly confused, but followed his instruction and headed towards Leah.

"Hey, Leah."

"Oh, Bella. How are you?"

"I'm good. Sam said you had something to ask me."

"Yeah, that's right. Will you do me the honor of being one of my bridesmaids?"

I blinked, surprised. I hadn't seen that one coming. "Sure."

"Great." She smiled genuinely.

We talked for a few minutes, but eventually she pulled away to go yell at Seth, who'd gotten his hands on a red solo cup. I hadn't even noticed the keg before, but there it was, not twenty feet from the fire. I rolled my eyes and walked into the forest, planning to head to one of my favorite outcroppings, a small cliff that was about forty feet up. It was a great spot to cliff dive, but it was also just a great place to look out and watch the sea. Jacob could be adventurous and cliff dive all he liked, I'd rather just watch the ocean.

I walked through the forest by memory, carefully avoiding the many gnarled roots and randoms rocks along the path. It was a path I'd walked a hundred times in the last few years. If it weren't for my lack of coordination, I'd probably be able to walk it blindfolded.

I was almost there, when a noise a little ways deeper in the forest stopped me. I turned toward the noise. It was Sam, his shirt in one hand. I went to call out, but he pulled his shorts down, leaving him completely naked. My eyes bulged, practically swallowing my tongue.

I couldn't call out now, he'd be embarrassed for sure if he knew I was seeing this. I closed my hand over my mouth. Some very small part of me noted that he had a decent pair of gluts. I told that part of me to shut up, trying to convince myself to turn away, even as he tied his clothes to his leg with a leather strap.

Suddenly he started to shiver violently. I didn't understand what was happening, and I debated with myself if I should go help when suddenly he just exploded. There were no other words for the violent outburst in front of my eyes. What fell to the ground wasn't Sam, but a giant black wolf. In fact, it was the largest black wolf I'd ever seen.

I couldn't help myself, I screamed.

The wolf turned toward me and it almost appeared like it's eyes widened. I didn't stick around to find out anymore, my fight or flight instincts finally kicking in. I took off, running towards my original destination. I knew I was too deep to get back to the beach before that thing got to me.

I could see the cliff ahead when I heard Sam shout at me, "Bella stop!"

His voice sounded far too close, I wasn't the fastest runner on earth, but there'd been enough distance between us, that that shouldn't have been possible. I didn't stop.

I reached the cliff, not even looking back before I flung myself off of it.

I fully recognized how strong the waves were that were crashing against the cliff only half a second before I hit the water. I dived deep, kicking out to keep from being sucked against the cliff from the heavy wave.

The current of the water shoved me toward the cliff against my best effort. I knew I was going to be rammed into it in another second, two tops, and there was no way I could stop it.

Suddenly an arm went around my waist, yanking me close to a body. It was Sam. We surfaced a couple seconds later.

"LET ME GO!" I shrieked, trying to kick out and hit something hard enough to get him to let me go.

"Bella. Calm down," he shouted back. "If I let you go now, you'll drown, this current is far too strong for you."

"What the hell are you?" I demanded, still trying to get away, in spite of his words. He just tightened his grip around my waist and swam us toward shore. Not first beach, but another smaller beach just a little ways south of it and us.

"You obviously saw, Bella. What do you think I am?"

"I don't know, a lab experiment gone wrong." I knew what he was. Of course I did. But I couldn't even force my mind to say the word, let alone speak it out loud.

He let out one short laugh, no humor in it at all as we reached the beach. "No, Bella, I'm a werewolf."

My mind went briefly blank. Then I started to think. "That isn't possible."

"Of course it is. You just saw it happen." His voice was bitter.

"How long?" There's no way he'd always been able to do that.

"Since a few weeks after the cold ones moved to town."

I swallowed. I'd heard that before, when Charlie had been ranting about Billy.

"The Cullens," I barely uttered the words.

"Yes, but how did you know that?"

"Billy warned Charlie about them, trying to convince him to drive them out of town. But it isn't possible. There's no such thing as werewolves. There's no such thing as vampires."

"Yes, there are. Even you can't deny what your own eyes just saw."

"How? Why?" The words slipped out, part of me didn't want to know, but I needed to. I needed to understand what world I'd just been unwittingly dropped into.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I can't give you the answers you're looking for. You're not part of the tribe, and you certainly aren't supernatural. You aren't even supposed to know what you've already found out."

I groaned, my head spinning. It wasn't possible. I didn't care what I just saw. These kinds of things were only real in scary stories. I put my head in my hands. "Does Leah know?"

"She's familiar with the legends, but she doesn't believe in them."

"How can you marry her with such a huge secret?"

"I'm not allowed to tell her."

I looked up, his teeth were clenched. It was quite obvious he wasn't happy about that.

Suddenly something clicked, his hair. Jared's hair. "And Jared?"

"You're quick. Yes, he's like me. Come on, I'll help you get back to your friends."

He reached toward me – I hadn't even consciously realized I'd put a few feet of space between him and me. "Don't touch me," I practically screamed the words.

He flinched. "Bella, it's still me. I won't hurt you. I'm a protector, that's what I'm here for." He clenched his jaw again, but what he didn't say became perfectly clear. He was the defense against the opposing supernatural force that I couldn't quite believe existed.

His whispered words to me earlier started to make more sense.

I took his hand when he reached forward again.

It took longer to get back to First Beach then I liked, and he let me continue on my own when we reached the edge of the forest.

Jacob saw me first and raced over to me. "Where'd you go to?"

"Oh, just to our favorite cliff." There was a slight tremble to my words, but the lie was nowhere near as obvious as normal, probably because it wasn't a complete lie. I had gone there after all.

"Ah, okay." Jacob didn't sound convinced.

"Hey, Bella," Mike shouted from the fire. "The weather is about to take a nasty turn. We're heading back."

I gave him a thumbs up, so he'd know I heard.

"I've got to go," I murmured to Jacob, hugging him hard for just a second as I sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening that he never became like Sam, that he never found out what I just had.

Then I turned and jogged over to Mike.

When we got to the Suburban, the others were already loading everything back in. I crawled into the backseat by Angela and Tyler. I leaned my head against Angela's shoulder, forcing myself not to cry. I'd do it when I got home.

* * *

 **AN:** For the record, this was a different cliff than the one Bella hurled herself off of in New Moon. It is significantly shorter. Also, while I don't normally ask, I really would love to see some reviews for this story.


	8. Chapter 7 - Nightmare

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 7 – Nightmare**

I told Charlie I had a lot of homework to do, and that I didn't want anything to eat. There was a football game on that he was excited about, though of course _I_ had no idea what was so special about it, so he wasn't aware of anything unusual in my face or tone.

Once in my room, I locked the door. I dug through my desk until I found my old headphones, and I plugged them into my little CD player that I'd bought at a garage sale at Katie Marshall's house two summers prior. I ran my finger over the collection of musical options I had. It was mostly music from the seventies and eighties with a broad range of genres from rock to metal. Among them were Metallica, Tom Petty, Prince, George Straight, Bob Marley, there was even a CD of Elvis Presley classics. Finally I pulled out one of the few discs of more recent music by Nickelback. I popped it into place and lay down on my bed. I put on the headphones, hit Play, and turned up the volume until it hurt my ears. I closed my eyes, but the light still intruded, so I added a pillow over the top half of my face.

I concentrated very carefully on the music and the lyrics, trying to tune out all other thoughts. By the third time I'd listened through the CD, I had memorized all the lyrics to the choruses, at least.

And the music worked. The songs made it impossible for me to focus on anything but them – which was the whole purpose of the exercise. I listened to the CD again and again, until I was singing along with all the songs, until, finally, I fell asleep.

I opened my eyes to a familiar place. Aware in some corner of my consciousness that I was dreaming, I recognized the green light of the forest. I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks somewhere nearby. And I knew that if I found the ocean, I'd be able to see the sun. I was trying to follow the sound, but then Jacob Black was there, tugging on my hand, pulling me back toward the blackest part of the forest.

"Jacob? What's Wrong?" I asked. His face was frightened as he yanked with all his strength against my resistance; I didn't want to go into the dark.

"Run, Bella, you have to run!" he whispered, terrified.

"This way, Bella!" I recognized Mike's voice calling out of the gloomy heart of the trees, but I couldn't see him.

"Why?" I asked, still pulling against Jacob's grasp, desperate now to find the sun.

But Jacob let go of my hand and yelped, suddenly shaking, falling to the dim forest floor. He twitched on the ground as I watched in horror.

"Jacob!" I screamed. But he was gone. In his place was a large red-brown wolf with black eyes. The wolf faced away from me, pointing toward the shore, the hair on the back of his shoulders bristling, low growls issuing from between his exposed fangs.

"Bella, run!" Mike cried out again from behind me. But I didn't turn. I was watching a light coming toward me from the beach.

And then Edward stepped out from the trees, his skin faintly glowing, his eyes black and dangerous. He held up one hand and beckoned me to come to him. The wolf growled.

I took a step forward, toward Edward. He smiled then, and his teeth were sharp, pointed.

"Trust me," he purred.

I took another step.

The wolf launched himself across the space between me and the vampire, fangs aiming for the jugular.

"No!" I screamed, wrenching upright out of my bed.

My sudden movement caused the headphones to pull the CD player off the bedside table, and it clattered to the wooden floor.

My light was still on, and I was sitting fully dressed on the bed, with my shoes on. I glanced, disoriented, at the clock on my dresser. It was five-thirty in the morning.

I groaned, fell back, and rolled over onto my face, kicking off my boots.

I knew I should try to go back to sleep for a few more hours, but the dream had dredged up the exact image I'd been trying to avoid. Edward. As a vampire.

Unfortunately, it had also pulled another image into sharp reality, and I needed answers that I wasn't going to find here. Yesterday when I'd discovered Sam was a werewolf, I'd prayed it wouldn't happen to Jake, was my dream just fulfilling my worst nightmare, or was he actually going to become a wolf someday?

Sam would know and he would tell me. This very morning.

I got out of bed, immediately yanking off the clothes I'd fallen asleep in, including my wetsuit. Then I grabbed my bathroom bag and went into the hall to go take a shower, walking around naked probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but Charlie hadn't banged on my door when I woke up screaming. He was out. Either fishing or had been called in to work, which meant I was alone in the house.

The shower didn't take me as long as I hoped it would, though. Even taking the time to blow-dry my hair, I was soon out of things to do in the bathroom. Wrapped in a towel, I crossed back to my room.

I dressed in one of my favorite vintage tees and pair of jeans with several worn holes – not made by some fashion designer that charged too much, but by simple usage. Once I was fully dressed, I turned my old computer on and then headed out, going downstairs. My computer could warm up while I was in La Push.

I quickly wrote a note stating where I was going and stuck it to the fridge, just in case Charlie made it home before me. I had to admit, that was fairly unlikely.

I ran outside and got in my truck, starting it up to make the twenty minute drive to La Push.

. . .

It actually took closer to thirty minutes to get to Sam's house. I stopped the truck, shutting off the engine, and a moment later Sam was at the front door. I got out.

"What are you doing here, Bella?" he asked as he opened the door.

"I have questions. You have the answers that I need."

"I already told you that I can't answer those questions."

"Then you're going to point me in the direction of who can. Because I need to know, is Jacob Black going to become like you?"

"Why do you need to know that?"

"He's my best friend, Sam. You know that."

Sam said something under his breath, not in English, but in Quileute.

I arched an eyebrow at him. "Either tell me who to ask, or give me the answers."

"You better come in."

He opened the the door wider for me and I headed inside, immediately crossing my arms over my chest, and turning to glare at him. It was probably foolish given what I'd learned about him yesterday, but I'd known him since I was three years old.

"To answer your question. Yes, but probably not for awhile."

"Is there any way to stop it from happening to him?"

"Why would you want to stop it?" Sam looked perplexed.

"I just found out there are supernatural creatures in the world, and I don't know which way is up now. There aren't supposed to be things like vampires and werewolves. Jacob is the closest thing to a little brother that I have. I want to protect him from having his world being turned on it's axles in the same way mine has."

He scratched his head. "Only thing that might work is if the bloodsuckers move away, but I think it's too late. The gene has already been triggered."

I closed my eyes.

"How long until it happens?"

"He's not even fifteen yet, it could be a couple years still."

"Can you tell him before it happens? So he's prepared."

"He knows the legends, Bella. He is aware even if he doesn't believe at the moment."

"You'll keep him safe, right?" I looked up at Sam, begging with my eyes to make sure that he'd do that.

"Bella, we're safe in La Push. It's Forks that isn't safe. You're not safe." His eyes were steady on mine as he said that.

"I suppose that's my risk to take though, correct?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I honestly don't know, Sam." I looked down and away from him. "All I know is that for the first time in my life I could actually care for a boy as something other than just a friend. I'm not sure it matters that he isn't human."

"Bella." Sam's voice was sharp, so I looked up. "I can't protect you. We have a pact of sorts, their family and my tribe. If he bites you, the only thing I'll be able to do for you is either put you out of your misery or avenge you. You need to be careful. The price for pursuing a relationship with him might be more than you think you're risking."

"I'll be careful, Sam, but I think I'm already in too deep to walk away."

. . .

When I got home, I made a bowl of cereal. I ate slowly, chewing each bite with care. When I was done, I washed the bowl and spoon, dried them, and put them away. My feet dragged as I climbed the stairs. I went to my CD player first, picking it up off the floor and placing it precisely in the center of the table. I pulled out the headphones, and put them away in the desk drawer. Then I turned the same CD on, turning it down to the point where it was background noise.

With another sigh, I turned to my computer. I sat in my hard folding chair and opened up my browser, making my way to my preferred search engine. I shot down a few pop-ups and then typed in one word.

 _Vampire._

It took an infuriatingly long time, of course. When the results came up, there was a lot to sift through – everything from movies and TV shows to role-playing games, underground metal, gothic cosmetic companies, and even a couple of mortuaries with tasteless slogans.

Then I found a promising site – Vampires A-Z. I waited impatiently for it to load, quickly clicking closed each ad that flashed across the screen. Finally the screen was finished – simple white background with black text, academic-looking. Two quotes greeted me on the home page:

 _Throughout the vast shadowy world of ghosts and demons there is no figure so terrible, no figure so dreaded and abhorred, yet dight with such fearful fascination, as the vampire, who is himself neither ghost nor demon, but yet who partakes the dark natures and possesses the mysterious and terrible qualities of both. - Rev. Montague Summers_

 _If there is in this world a well attested account, it is that of the vampires. Nothing is lacking: official reports, affidavits of well-known people, of surgeons, of priests, of magistrates; the judicial proof is most complete. And with all that, who is there who believes in vampires? - Rousseau_

The rest of the site was an alphabetized listing of all the different myths of vampires held throughout the world. The first I clicked on, the _Danag_ , was a Filipino vampire supposedly responsible for planting taro on the islands long ago. The myth continued that the _Danag_ worked with humans for many years, but the partnership ended one day when a woman cut her finger and a _Danag_ sucked her wound, enjoying the taste so much that it drained her body completely of blood.

I read carefully through the descriptions, looking for anything that sounded familiar, let alone plausible. It seemed that most vampire myths centered around beautiful women as demons and children as victims; they also seemed like constructs created to explain away the high mortality rates for young children, and to give men an excuse for infidelity. Many of the stories involved bodiless spirits and warnings against improper burials. There wasn't much that sounded like the movies I'd seen, and only a very few, like the Hebrew _Estrie_ and the Polish _Upier_ , who were even preoccupied by drinking blood.

Only three entries really caught my attention: the Romanian _Varacolaci_ , a powerful undead being who could appear as a beautiful, pale-skinned human, the Slovak _Nelapsi_ , a creature so strong and fast it could massacre an entire village in the single hour after midnight, and one other, the _Stregoni benefici_.

About this last there was only one brief sentence.

 _Stregoni benefici: An Italian vampire, said to be on the side of goodness, and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires._

It was a relief, that one small entry, the one myth among hundreds that claimed the existence of good vampires.

Overall, though, there was little that added up to what I'd seen of the Cullens. I'd made a little catalog in my mind as I'd read and carefully compared it with each myth. Speed, strength, beauty, pale skin, eyes that shift color; and then the only things useful I'd received from Sam: enemies of werewolves, were called cold ones, and that hey bite. There were very few myths that matched even one factor.

And then another problem, one that I'd remembered from the different vampire movies I'd seen over the years and was backed up by today's reading – vampires couldn't come out in the daytime, the sun would burn them to a cinder. They slept in coffins all day and came out only at night.

Aggravated, I snapped off the computer's main power switch, not waiting to shut things down properly. Through my irritation, I felt overwhelming embarrassment. It was all so stupid. I was sitting in my room, researching vampires. What was wrong with me?

I had to get out of the house, and I knew exactly where to go. I ran downstairs – grabbing a pound of raw hamburger out of the refrigerator on the way – and heading outside.

I walked east and headed into the forest. It didn't take long for the house and the road behind me to completely disappear from sight when I turned around to check.

There was a thin ribbon of a trail that led through the forest – one that had been trod into the ground by Katie and myself many times over the last year and a half. It was my first trip out here since I had returned from Panama and I felt bad about failing to come out before now, but I'd been busy. The trail wound deep into the forest as it snaked around several Sitka spruces, hemlocks, yews and maples.

Finally I reached my destination of a fallen tree that rested against another tree. It was a perfect sitting place. More importantly though, it was only a few feet from a tree that had a small hole in the base. It was to this hole that I carried the meat, removing it from it's package and dropping it in the hole. A year and a half ago, Katie and I had found an abandoned red fox pup. She'd taken it home and nursed it until it was old enough to survive in the wild. We'd found this little mini clearing when we'd been looking for a place to let the fox go and the fox had made the hole it's din. He almost never came out to greet either of us anymore, but both of us still came out from time to time to leave him things. Food, toys, treats and more.

Once I was finished with that, I went and sat on the fallen tree, leaning my back against the living tree.

Out here, it was easier to accept the possible truth behind the absurd myths and legends. At least if I didn't think of my father and his no nonsense beliefs. The very beliefs I'd been raised with.

I forced myself to focus on the two most vital questions.

First, could the Cullens actually be vampires?

Immediately my mind responded with a resounding negative. It was silly and morbid to entertain such ridiculous notions. But I'd seen a young man I'd known my whole life turn into a giant wolf just yesterday, and had it confirmed today that the most human person I knew outside of my dad was destined to join that fate.

If that was possible, then I had to accept that more _other_ was possible as well and Cullens were definitely _something_. Something outside possible realm of realistic justification. They were not _human_. No amount of rationalization would change that. So if they weren't human, did they have to be vampires? Or could they be something else entirely. Something different.

For now, accepting they were part of the same realm of _other_ that I'd just been dropped into, would have to be enough.

And then the most important question of all. What was I going to do about it?

 _If_ Edward was a vampire – I could hardly make myself think the words – then what should I do? Involving someone else was definitely out. If I told Charlie, he'd have me committed, or he'd arrest Billy.

Only two options seemed practical. The first was to take his advice: to stay away from him completely. It was what Sam would think was smart. It might keep me physically safe. It might protect my family and friends from losing me to some unforeseen force in the future.

I was gripped in a sudden agony of despair as I considered that alternative. My mind rejected the pain, quickly skipping on to the next option.

I could do nothing different. After all, if he was something... sinister, he'd done nothing to hurt me so far. In fact, I would be a dent in Tyler's fender if he hadn't acted so quickly. So quickly, I argued with myself, that it might have been sheer reflexes. But if it was a reflex to save lives, how bad could he be? I retorted. My head spun around in answerless circles.

There was one thing I was sure of, if I was sure of anything. The dark Edward in my dream last night was a reflection only of my fear of the idea of vampires, and not Edward himself. Even so, when I'd screamed out in terror at Jacob's lunge, it wasn't fear for him that brought the cry of "no" to my lips. It was fear that _Edward_ would be harmed – even as he called to me with sharp-edged fangs, I feared for _him._

And I knew that I had my answer. I didn't know if there ever was a choice, really. I was already in too deep. Now that I knew – _if_ I knew – I could do nothing about my frightening secret. Because when I thought of him, of his voice, of his hypnotic eyes, the magnetic force of his personality, I wanted nothing more than to be with him right now. Even if it eventually meant my own end.

I raised my head skyward as the rain finally started to fall through the canopy, letting the rain wash my face even as I finally let myself cry. I wasn't crying because I was afraid of Edward, nor was I afraid of Sam or Jacob. Instead I was crying for my own loss of innocence. I'd grown up believing in a world of harsh reality. I'd never be able to step back into that world again.

I shivered as the air continued to cool and I finally got up, heading back down the trail to get home.

When I got home, I started on the remainder of my past due homework mixed with new assignments that were coming due. I settled into a relative calm, feeling more serene than I had since.. well, since Edward started talking to me again, if I was being honest.

That was my way of dealing, though. Making decisions was the painful part for me, the part I agonized over. But once the decision was made, I simply followed through – usually with relief that the choice was made. Sometimes the relief was tainted by despair, like when I finally decided to tell Tyler we were through. But it was still better than wresting with the alternatives.

This decision was ridiculously easy to live with. Dangerously easy.

And so the day was quiet, productive – I finished my paper before eight. Charlie came home with a large catch, and I went through the fish after he put them in the freezer. I set aside two large catfish to take to Samantha's mom so they'd have some fish. Then I pulled out a smaller catfish to filet for supper.

I slept dreamlessly that night, exhausted from beginning my day so early, and sleeping so poorly the night before. I woke to the bright yellow light of a sunny day. I practically tripped and hit my head in my hurry to get over to my calendar where I marked, _**Pigs do fly**_ , on today's date.

Charlie was finishing breakfast when I came downstairs.

"Nice day out," he commented.

"Yes," I agreed with a grin.

He smiled back, his brown eyes crinkling around the edges. "The Clearwaters want us to come down for a barbecue tonight, you want to go?"

"Will they be barbecuing something other than just fish?"

Charlie arched an eyebrow at me.

"I mean of course, it'll be nice to see them. Any special occasion?"

"Aside from cleaning out their ten year supply of fish? Yes. I do believe that Leah wants you to look at dresses. You really should warn me when you agree to be in bridal parties, you know."

"I was only offered on Saturday."

"Well, I'll see you after school and we'll go down together, but I got to head to work now."

"Okay, bye dad."

I finished my breakfast in silence before I headed out to my truck and drove to school.

I was one of the first ones to school; I hadn't even checked my clock before I left home. I parked and headed to the seldom-used picnic benches on the south side of the cafeteria. The benches were still a little damp, but I sat down anyway, intent to enjoy the sunlight. I pulled out a book crammed at the bottom of my bag, not paying attention to the title and started to read, but eventually found my mind wandering as I watched the sunlight play on the red-barked trees.

"Bella!" I heard my name shouted. I grimaced. It was Mike. I still hadn't figured out why he'd made an appearance in my dream.

I looked around to realize the school had become populated while I'd been sitting and watching the trees. Everyone was enjoying the unforeseen sun as much as me, wearing tees, shorts, and/or sandals. Mike was coming toward me in khaki shorts and a striped rugby shirt, waving.

"Hey, Mike," I called, waving back.

He came to sit by me, the tidy spikes of his hair shining golden in the light, his grin stretching across his face.

"I always forget – you hair has red in it," he commented, catching a strand of hair between his fingers.

"Yeah, it only shows in the sun."

He tucked the strand of hair behind my ear. It wasn't exactly an uncommon thing for him to do, at least not in years past. When we'd been in grade school, I can even remember him once trying his hands at braiding my hair – it had taken a week to get all the knots out of my hair. We were older now though, and I was starting to become very aware that he had feelings for me, feelings I could never see myself replicating.

"Great day, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and an extreme rarity."

"What did you do yesterday?" His tone was just a bit is too proprietary.

"I mostly worked on my essay." And went to La Push, researched vampires, despaired over the reality of supernatural creatures, and fed a fox. I didn't add any of that though.

He hit his forehead with the heel of his hand, "Oh yeah – that's due Thursday, right?"

"Um, Wednesday, I think."

"Wednesday?" He frowned. "That's not good... What are you writing yours on?"

"Whether Shakespeare's treatment of the female characters is misogynistic."

He stared at me like I'd just spoken in Pig Latin.

"I guess I'll have to get to work on that tonight," he said, deflated. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out."

"Err.." Why did he have to keep coming back to this? Didn't he get that I just saw him as a friend?

"Well, we could go to dinner or something... and I could work on it later." He smiled at me hopefully.

"Mike..." I could tell him that I had previous arrangements, which was true, but it wouldn't fix the larger issue. "I don't think that would be the best idea."

His face fell? "Why?" he asked, his eyes guarded.

"I think... and if you ever repeat what I'm saying right now I will cheerfully beat you to death," I threatened, "but I think that would hurt Jessica's feelings."

He was bewildered, obviously not thinking in _that_ direction at all. "Jessica?"

"Really, Mike, are you _blind_?"

"Oh," he exhaled – clearly dazed. I took advantage of that to make my escape.

"It's time for class, and I can't be late again." I stuffed my book back in my bag.

We walked in silence to building three, and his expression was distracted. I hoped that whatever thoughts he was immersed in were leading him in the right direction. And by that, I meant away from me.

When I saw Jessica in Trig, she was bubbling with enthusiasm. "You are going with us tomorrow to shop for dresses, right?" She demanded.

"I already agreed last week, didn't I?"

"I wanted to make sure."

As lunch came around, I was painfully eager to see not just him, but all the Cullens – to compare them with the new suspicions that plagued my mind. As I crossed the threshold of the cafeteria, I felt the first true tingle of fear slither down my spine and settle in my stomach. Would they be able to know what I was thinking? And then a different feeling jolted through me – would Edward be waiting to sit with me again?

As was my routine, I glanced first toward the Cullens tables. A shiver of panic trembled in my stomach as I realized it was empty. With dwindling hope, my eyes scoured the rest of the cafeteria, hoping to find him alone, waiting for me. The place was nearly filled, but there was no sign of Edward or any of his family. Desolation hit me with crippling strength.

When we got to our table, I sat by Angela instead of my normal spot beside Mike. I wasn't ready to deal with him again. I vaguely noticed as he held Jessica's seat out for her and her blinding smile in response.

Angela asked a few quiet questions about the _Macbeth_ paper, which I answered as naturally as I could while spiraling downward in misery.

I realized I'd been holding on to a last shred of hope when I entered film studies, saw his empty desk, and felt a new wave of disappointment.

The rest of the day passed slowly, dismally. In gym, we had a lecture on the rules of badminton, the next torture they had lined up. But at it meant I got to sit and listen instead of stumbling around on the court. The best part was the coach didn't finish, so I got another day off tomorrow. Never mind that the day after they would arm me with a racket before unleashing me on the rest of class.

I was glad to leave campus, looking forward to going to going up to La Push more than I had been this morning. I needed to focus on something other than Edward right now.

Charlie made it home within minutes of me. He slammed his job issued cell phone on the table. "Let me get changed out of this and then we'll go. Before dispatch calls again." He glared at his phone.

I smothered a laugh as a cough.

. . .

When we arrived at the barbecue, it turned out it wasn't just us and Harry's family. Quil's family, Sam, and Billy and Jake were all there as well.

Sam had his arms around Leah's waste, his chin resting on her head, but the instant I got out of the car she extracted herself from him and came over to me. "Come on, I want you to see my dress." She took my hand as she spoke and practically dragged me up the two steps and into the house.

I followed Leah to her bedroom. As soon as we got there, she promptly shut her door. "You need to tell your dad that Paul's missing."

"What?"

"He disappeared sometime after the bonfire on Saturday and hasn't been seen since. His mother is frantic, but Billy convinced her not to call the cops. I talked to _my_ dad about it and he said I shouldn't worry about it. Something a long the lines of boys will be boys. Does that sound like Paul to you?"

Not really. Paul had to keep his grades up to almost perfect if he was to get the scholarship at the end of this school year that he so desperately wanted. "None of them are worrying?"

"No, they all seem to just _know_ he's fine and that he'll be back. I can't trust that."

"Maybe he had to go out of town for some reason, if they all think he's fine." I didn't really believe that, but I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly what was going on.

"If that was the case, his mom would know where he was."

Just then the door opened and Sue stepped in. "There you two are."

"I was just telling Bella about Paul. Since none of you seem to care." Leah glared at her mom.

"Paul is fine. It's tribe business. She needn't worry. Now are you going to show her your dress or coming out to join the rest of the party." Sue crossed her arms over her chest, clearly having no intention of leaving.

Leah rolled her eyes and got up, going over to her closet. She pulled out a long buckskin dress with amazing fringe work and beautiful art on it.

"It'll look amazing on you, Leah," I said softly

"I figured since I'm going to wear this, which is more tan than white, maybe we could get you a simple white sun dress for your bridesmaid attire."

She pulled out a couple of fashion mags and showed me what she was thinking, but eventually we headed back out to the party.

Once we were outside, I caught Sam's eye and mouthed Paul's name as I looked him up and down pointedly. He nodded sharply once.

There was another werewolf in La Push.

. . .

The next morning, I got up early and set up the slow cooker with chili, after scribbling _**Happy Days**_ on my calendar for today – third sunny day in less than a week, I was relatively sure hell was soon going to freeze over. I left a note for on the top of the slow cooker so Charlie would know which bowl to put the leftovers in when he got done eating that night and to remind him I was going to Port Angeles with Jessica and Angela.

When I got to school, I looked for the Volvo. It wasn't there, but still I hoped.

In fact, I hoped until Film Studies, but he wasn't there either, just like he wasn't at lunch.

I vowed to myself that I would be in a good mood tonight and not ruin Angela's or Jessica's enjoyment in dress hunting. I refused to think that last Thursday afternoon might have been the last time I'd ever see Edward, not after we'd finally gotten somewhere with our friendship, or whatever it was turning into.

After school, Jessica followed me home in her old white Mercury so that I could ditch my books and truck. I brushed through my hair quickly when I was inside, and then I switched my scruffy wallet from my school bag to a purse I rarely used, and ran out to join Jessica. We went to Angela's house next, and she was waiting for us.

I started to really get into the trip as we drove out of town – some band I didn't recognize playing on her radio.


	9. Chapter 8 - Port Angeles

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **AN:** Quick note, please remember this story is rated M not T, that is not just for safety. While this chapter doesn't go all that far, it may be disturbing to some. Also, we're going out of order here. You'll see what I mean.

 **Chapter 8 – Port Angeles**

Jess drove faster than the speed limit, so we made it to Port Angeles by four. It had been awhile since I'd had a girls' night out with Jess and Angela, not since the end of last school year actually. Angela and I had done some stuff over the summer, but Jess usually only acknowledged are stilted, half-life friendship during the school year – when it was convenient for her.

We listened to whiny rock songs while Jessica jabbered on about the boys we hung out with, specifically about Mike who she'd gone out on a date with last night. The date had gone very well and she was hoping they'd be to the kissing point by the dance on Saturday. Then she started comparing Mike to the college boys from North Bend.

"College students are just so much more mature, you know. I mean they actually understand what they're supposed to be doing with their tongues..."

I rolled my eyes at Angela who nodded her head once in answer to me. Jess kept on talking, completely unaware that we were basically ignoring her as she blathered on about the way the one college boy had curled his fingers just right when... I blinked, I was definitely going to need to find a good source of brain bleach for that. They'd been in a diner for goodness sake. Angela looked horrified by what she'd just heard. Apparently she hadn't realized that the coeds had been playing handsy at the diner with Jess while she'd been eating her late lunch.

I was just about to open my mouth to deliberately steer the conversation in a different direction when Jess finally got done with her tale, winding down with. "But Mike's available. A bird in the hand and all that. Besides, what he doesn't know, he can learn." She grinned.

I couldn't help it, I laughed, a slight hysterical note in the laugh. I cut it off before it became obvious.

When we finally reached Port Angeles, Jess drove straight to the only major department store in the town. It was off the more beaten path, close to the warehouse and run-down shops, many of which were closed permanently, but there was a book store that was just about two blocks away, right in the heart of the run-down shops. I didn't go to the book store often as it was sort of a mixed assortment trap. On top of selling books, the woman that ran the shop was a self acclaimed psychic and had all kinds of new age paraphernalia for sale including tarot cards, dream-catchers, spirit boards, rune engraved bones (not human), and more. She also offered to do readings for a small fee of $25.

I'd had her do a reading on me once, back when I'd been thirteen. All I'd come away from it with was being $25 poorer. I couldn't remember the entire reading, but she had mentioned something about me being graceful and she'd lost me completely.

There were other stores that sold clothes back in the bay area of town, but most of those stores were high priced, servicing the heavy amount of tourists that came through town.

The dance was labeled as semi-formal. It was a strange label, to give a dance, and none of us were quite sure what to make of it.

"So, do we go formal ball gowns or cocktail dresses?" Angela asked as we looked at the clothes in the junior department.

"I don't know, the one seems to well... formal. The other too casual. There have to be some tea length gowns around here somewhere," Jess replied.

I pointed toward a rack a little farther down.

"Thanks," Angela said gratefully, going to look through the dresses. "I thought you and Tyler were done."

"We are," I ground out between my teeth. What had he done this time?

"Well Tyler is telling everyone that he's taking you to prom," Jessica informed me.

"He said _what_?" I forced myself not to screech the words, but I was furious.

"I knew it wasn't true," Angela murmured to Jess.

"Do you think if I ran him over with my truck he would take the hint and give up already?" Maybe back up to, to make sure the job was done.

Jess snickered. "Maybe"

Jess found two dresses that she liked, and was torn on which one to get – one a long, strapless, basic black number, the other a knee-length electric blue with spaghetti straps. I encouraged her to go with the blue, which matched her eyes. Angela chose a pale pink dress that draped around her tall frame nicely and brought out the honey tints in her light brown hair. I complemented them both generously and helped by returning the rejects to their rack.

We headed over to shoes and accessories. While they tried things on, I merely watched and critiqued, not in the mood to shop for myself, though I did need new shoes. The girls'-night high was wearing off in the wake of my ire with Tyler, leaving room for gloom to move back in.

Once they'd picked out their accessories, strappy sandals with high heels that would promise to be death traps if _I_ ever wore them, and some jewelry – in the case of Jessica – we headed out of the store.

We planned to go to dinner at a little Italian restaurant on the boardwalk that we always joked must have been named after me. It wasn't, of course, La Bella Italia had been opened originally eight years ago by a man who wanted to celebrate his Italian heritage.

Our shopping hadn't taken as long as planned though, so Jess and Angela were going to take their clothes back to the car and then walk down to the bay. I told them I would meet them at the restaurant in an hour – I decided to go to the little bookstore in hopes of finding something that caught my eye. The both were willing to come with me, but there was no point to that. It wasn't like anything bad ever happened in Port Angeles.

They walked off to the car chattering happily, and I headed in the direction of the little book store.

When I got to the bookstore, I noted all the _charisma_ that came from inside. The windows were full of crystals, dream-catchers, and fancy candles. The fifty year old woman named Natasha who owned the store was dressed in her typical sixties fair. I almost walked away without going in, not really wanting to deal with her, but I really did need a new book.

When I went inside Natasha waved hello to me and I waved back, and then started walking through the books. For the longest time, nothing caught my eye, then I finally saw a small dream-catcher against the back wall. The center of the dream-catcher had an intricately woven design of a wolf's face. I walked closer to it. I didn't know why, but it reminded me of the Jacob wolf I'd dreamed about just last Saturday night. I looked at the price tag and grimaced. It was more than I _should_ spend on such a useless item, but then I looked down at the table. I choked on a laugh as the words _Bram Stoker's Dracula_ were on the cover of the book.

Determined not to think too much on why both items were right here, I picked up the book and grabbed the dream-catcher off the wall. Taking them both over to Natasha, who rang me up, and I winced as I pulled out the money to pay for the two items. She wrapped them up and put them in a bag, before she handed it to me, placing something small and round in my hand as she did so.

"It's a rose quartz. To protect your love. Bella." Her eyes were clouded as she spoke.

I stepped back in shock as she let my hand go. In all the times I'd gone to this store, she'd never called me by my name. In fact I was almost a hundred percent certain I'd never told her it.

"Have a good day now, dear."

I quickly left the store. The instant I was out of the store, I took a deep breath, trying to wipe my mind of what just happened. I wasn't willing to accept anything supernatural other than what I'd already been forced to. I could head back to the department store and walk to downtown from there. I knew I probably should, but it made for an extra four blocks of walking and I could just take a shortcut, cutting through the warehouses to get back.

I stood for a moment undecided before I stepped away from the store and started walking down one the back roads that led between two large warehouses. It was a much murkier walk than returning to the department store first would have been, but it was faster. I hurried down the road quickly but as I walked across an intersection I caught site of four men heading up the road.

There's no reason to be concerned, I tried to tell my mind, but my mind wasn't playing along with that. Especially when they turned the corner and started walking behind me. I sped up.

"Nothing ever happens in Port Angeles. Why on earth did you think that. You're an idiot, Bella. An absolute idiot," I muttered as I sped up even more, sensing them keeping up with me.

"Hey, there!" one of them called from behind me.

My instincts started to scream at me to run, but I knew if I did, I'd most likely fall down, such was my luck. I started to jog even though I knew it wasn't the brightest idea. I had to get away from them.

"Hey, wait!" one of them called after me again.

I turned a corner, watching my feet to make sure I didn't accidentally trip.

It was only a couple more blocks until I was out of this section of town and no one would be stupid enough to try anything in a relatively public area. I looked up, stopping dead in my tracks as I did so. In my hurry to get away I'd taken the wrong turn. The only thing in front of me was a dead end.

I spun around to back track and get out of the alley, but it was too late. All four of the men entered the alley. I swallowed, trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. My purse, which normally held my mace, was missing it. The mace was still packed in the bag I'd taken with me to Panama. Neither my purse nor the bag with the book weighed enough to make a decent weapon. Though I could still throw them to startle the men, but two bags compared to four men didn't give me much.

I stepped backwards, looking over my shoulder briefly. The end of the alley had a wood fence, too high to realistically jump, but if I could figure out some way to get over it, it would at least be an escape.

I took another step backwards as they stepped closer to me.

I was rapidly running out of options. I took a deep breath, preparing to scream as loudly as I could. It was the type of scream that Charlie had taught me to do – one that came from the diaphragm. But I knew it wouldn't really do me any good, still too far off the beaten track for anyone to really hear me. I was going to do it anyway though, backing another step into the alley.

The biggest problem with backing myself into the alley even farther was if I couldn't come up with a way over that fence then I was going to be literally giving myself no escape routes.

"Stay away from me," I warned in a voice that was supposed to sound strong and fearless, but my voice cracked midway through.

"Don't be like that, sugar," a heavy-set man in his early twenties with dark brown hair and a dark complexion called – I was relatively sure he was the one that had spoken each time.

The others with him started laughing raucously in response.

I braced myself, feet apart, promising myself that if I found a way out of this then I was going to put that mace back in my purse... and the taser that was in Charlie's closet. I had taken self defense classes at Charlie's insistence for the last three summers. Ever since I'd first told him that I wanted to be a cop, but even so, each one of the men in front of me outweighed me and there were four of them. I was, simply put, out of my league.

Two of them stepped forward at the same time and came towards me. One of them had sandy blond hair and was a little older than the speaker. The other had brown hair and wasn't much older than me. I doubted he was twenty yet.

The speaker stayed where he was, apparently content to let the others do the work. The sandy blond was a little braver and stepped up to me. I kicked him hard in the balls for his bravery.

He gasped, dropping to his knees.

The other one looked back at the talker. "You didna say she fight back." His words were slurred, likely drunk.

"A little fight makes it all the more fun." The speaker looked at me with a calculating glint. "At least more fun for us. Not so much for her."

I swallowed. The one closer to me seemed uncertain of what to do. I took advantage of it, running around him and toward the entrance to the alley where the speaker and the other one still were. If I was quick enough. I could get around them.

I raced forward, praying to whoever was listening that my feet didn't fail me for once in my life, making a sharp right to go around the outside of these two, but suddenly the speaker reached out, gripping my arm hard.

"We could have made it good for you. Now, I think we'll just make it hurt." His words had a vicious edge to them that I was certain none of the others had. He was the ring leader of this particular act. His hand tightened even more and I knew it would end up bruising.

I had more pressing concerns than a bruised forearm though. Namely getting away from this man, because it was looking more and more like I wasn't going to. I could feel a heavy panic starting to set in, literally suffocating me. If I passed out, there'd be no way I was making it out of this. I tried to force myself to breathe.

Headlights suddenly rounded the corner in the next block and flew down the first block of this alley straight at us. I was blinded for half an instant before I yanked hard. The speaker let my arm free, probably as surprised as I was by the appearance of the vehicle, I jumped to the side, because it didn't look like the car had any intention of stopping. If whoever was in the car wanted to hit the speaker, then so be it.

Then the car suddenly slammed on the brakes, it's passenger door flying open right next to me.

"Get in," a furious voice commanded.

It was amazing how instantaneously the choking fear vanished, amazing how suddenly the feeling of security washed over me – even before I was off the street – as soon as I heard his voice. I jumped into the seat, slamming the door shut behind me.

It was dark in the car, no light had come on with the opening of the door, and I could barely see his face in the glow from the dashboard. The tires squealed as he spun the car around, accelerating too quickly, almost hitting the one man that had been standing beside the speaker before Edward sped away, driving us toward the harbor.

"Put on your seat belt," he commanded, and I realized I was clutching the seat with both hands. I quickly obeyed; the snap as the seat belt connected was loud in the darkness. He took a sharp left, racing forward, blowing through several stop signs without a pause.

But I felt utterly safe and, for the moment, totally unconcerned about where we were going. I stared at his face in profound relief, relief that went beyond my sudden deliverance. I studied his flawless features in the limited light, waiting for my breath to return to normal, until it occurred to me that his expression was murderously angry.

"Are you okay?" I asked, surprised at how hoarse my voice sounded.

"No," he said curtly, and his tone was livid.

I sat in silence, watching his face while his blazing eyes stared straight ahead, until the car came to a sudden stop. I glanced around, but it was too dark to see anything beside the vague outline of dark trees crowding the roadside. We weren't in town anymore.

"Bella?" he asked, his voice tight, controlled.

"Yes?" My voice was still rough, I tried to clear my throat quietly.

"Is your arm alright?" He still didn't look at me, but the fury was plain on his face.

"A little bruised, nothing major," I said softly.

"And the rest of you?" His fury was still clear, but for the first time there was a note of actual worry in his voice. Worry over what might have happened to me.

"I'm fine."

"Distract me, please," he ordered.

"I'm sorry, what?"

He exhaled sharply.

"Just prattle about something unimportant until I calm down," he clarified, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"Um." I wracked my brain for something trivial. "I'm going to run over Tyler Crowley tomorrow before school?"

He was still squeezing his eyes closed, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Why?"

"He's telling everyone that he's taking me to prom – he's obviously insane. Doesn't he understand we broke up? I thought he got that when he tried to... well, you remember it. I figure he'll leave me if I run him over. I might have to total his Sentra, though. If he doesn't have a ride he can't take anyone to prom...," I babbled on.

"I heard about that." He sounded a bit more composed.

" _You_ did?" I asked in disbelief, my previous irritation flaring. "If he's paralyzed from the neck down, he can't go to prom, either," I muttered, refining my plan.

Edward sighed, and finally opened his eyes.

"Better?"

"Not really."

I waited, but he didn't speak again. He leaned his head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling of the car. His face rigid.

"What's wrong?" My voice came out in a whisper.

"Sometimes I have a problem with my temper, Bella." He was whispering, too, and as he stared out the window, his eyes narrowed into slits. "But it _wouldn't_ be helpful for me to turn around and hunt down those..." He didn't finish his sentence, looking away, struggling for a moment to control his anger again. "At least," he continued, "that's what I'm trying to convince myself."

"Well, I'm going to have to tell Charlie what happened. It would be difficult to explain why they all..." I didn't continue the sentence, instead I just shrugged.

"You're really going to tell him?" He looked genuinely surprised.

"I'm going to have to. Charlie is going to notice the palm shaped bruise around my arm, and if I don't come clean until after that happens... Well, I'll be lucky if he lets me out of the house to go to school. Forget anything else." I looked out my window. "Besides, what if they try again with someone else and I don't say anything? I might have been able to stop it."

"I should take you to Carlisle to get your arm looked at," he murmured.

"It's fine. Just going to be bruised tomorrow." I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was past six-thirty. "Besides, if we don't go back into Port Angeles so I can find Jessica and Angela, then one of them will call Charlie because I didn't show up. You don't want to see what will happen if I appear to be missing."

He started the engine without another word, turning around smoothly and speeding back toward town. We were under the streetlights in no time at all, still going too fast, weaving with ease through the cars slowly cruising the boardwalk. He parallel-parked against the curb in a space I would thought much too small for the Volvo, but he slid in effortlessly in one try. I looked out the window to see the lights of La Bella Italia, and Jess and Angela just leaving, pacing anxiously away from us.

"How did you know where...?" I began, but then I just shook my head. I heard the door open and turned to see him getting out.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm taking you to dinner." He smiled slightly, but his eyes were hard. He stepped out of the car and slammed the door. I fumbled with my seat belt, and then hurried to get out of the car as well. He was waiting for me on the sidewalk.

He spoke before I could. "Go stop Jessica and Angela before I have to track them down, too. I don't think I could restrain myself if I ran into your other friends again."

I shivered at the threat in his voice.

"Jess! Angela!" I yelled after them, waving when they turned. They rushed back to me, the pronounced relief on both their faces simultaneously changing to surprise as they saw who I was standing next to. The hesitated a feet from us.

"Where have you been?" Jessica's voice was suspicious.

She most likely wouldn't believe me if I told her what happened, and in all honesty, it would probably be worse if she did. "I ran into Edward outside of the bookstore." I lifted my bag, honestly half amazed I still had the bag with the items I bought, then I gestured toward him.

"Would it be alright if I joined you?" he asked in his silken, irresistible voice. I could see from their staggered expressions that he had never unleashed his talents on them before.

"Er...sure," Jessica breathed.

"Um, actually, Bella, we already ate while we were waiting – sorry," Angela confessed.

Jess's glare promised retribution for her saying that. I bit my lip to keep from laughing before I finally spoke. "I'm not really hungry, anyways."

"I think you should eat something." Edward's voice was low, but full of authority. He looked up at Jessica and spoke slightly louder. "Do you mind if I drive Bella home tonight? That way you won't have to wait while she eats."

"Uh, no problem, I guess..." She looked at me. I could tell she was looking for me to give her an excuse to stay, but I wanted nothing more than to be alone with my perpetual savior. There were so many things I couldn't say to him with witnesses around.

"Okay." Angela figured out that I wanted them to leave. "See you tomorrow, Bella... Edward." She grabbed Jessica's hand and pulled her toward the car, which I could see a little ways away, parked across First Street. As they got in, Jess turned and waved, her face eager with curiosity. I waved back, waiting for them to drive away before I turned to face him.

"Honestly, I'm not hungry," I insisted, looking up to scrutinize his face. His expression was unreadable.

"Humor me."

He walked to the door of the restaurant and held it open with an obstinate expression. Obviously, there would be no further discussion. I walked past him into the restaurant with a resigned sigh.

The restaurant wasn't crowded – it was the start of the off season in Port Angeles. The host was female, and I understood the look in her eyes as she assessed Edward. She welcomed him a little more warmly than necessary. I was surprised by how much that bothered me. She was several inches taller than I was, and unnaturally blond.

"A table for two?" His voice was alluring, whether he was aiming for that or not. I saw her eyes flicker to me and then away, satisfied by my obvious ordinariness, and by the cautious, no-contact space Edward kept between us. She led us to a table big enough for four in the center of the most crowded area of the dining floor.

I was about to sit, but Edward shook his head at me.

"Perhaps something more private?" he insisted quietly to the host. I wasn't sure, but it looked like he smoothly handed her a tip. I'd never seen anyone refuse a table except in old movies.

"Sure." She sounded as surprised as I was. She turned and led us around a petition to a small ring of booths – all of them empty. "How's this?"

"Perfect." He flashed his gleaming smile, dazzling her momentarily.

"Um" – she shook her head, blinking – "your server will be right out."

"You really shouldn't do that to people," I criticized. "It's hardly fair."

"Do what?"

"Dazzle them like that – she's probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right now."

He seemed confused.

"Oh, come on," I said dubiously. "You _have_ to know what effect you have on people."

He tilted his head to one side, and his eyes were curious. "I dazzle people?"

"You haven't noticed? Do you think everybody gets their way so easily?"

He ignored my questions. "Do I dazzle _you_?"

"Frequently," I admitted.

And then our server arrived, her face expectant. The hostess had definitely dished behind the scenes, and this new girl didn't look disappointed. She flipped a strand of short black hair behind one ear and smiled with unnecessary warmth.

"Hello. My name is Amber, and I'll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?" I didn't miss that she was speaking only to him.

He looked at me.

"I'll have a Coke."

"Two Cokes," he said.

"I'll be right back with that," she assured him with another unnecessary smile. But he didn't see it. He was watching me.

"What?" I asked when she left.

His eyes stayed fixed on my face. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I replied, surprised by his intensity.

"You don't feel dizzy, sick, cold...?"

"Should I?"

He chuckled at my puzzled tone.

"Well, I'm actually waiting for you to go into shock." His face twisted up into that perfect crooked smile

"I don't think that will happen," I said after I could breathe again. "I've always been very good at repressing unpleasant things."

"Just the same, I'll feel better when you have some sugar in you."

Right on cue, the waitress appeared with our drinks and a basket of breadsticks. She stood with her back to me as she placed them on the table.

"Are you ready to order?" she asked Edward.

"Bella?" he asked. She turned unwillingly toward me.

I hadn't even looked at the menu. Good thing I already knew the majority of their menu. "The manicotti please."

"And you?" She turned back to him with a smile.

"Nothing for me," he said. Of course not.

"Let me know if you change your mind." The coy smile was still in place, bu he wasn't looking at her, and she left dissatisfied.

"Drink," he ordered.

I sipped at my soda obediently, and then drank more deeply, surprised by how thirsty I was. I realized I had finished the whole thing when he pushed his glass toward me.

"Thanks," I muttered, still thirsty. The cold from the icy soda was radiating through my chest, and I shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"It's just the Coke," I explained, shivering again.

"Don't you have a jacket?" His voice was disapproving.

"Yes." I looked at the empty bench next to me. "Oh – I left it in Jessica's car," I realized.

Edward was shrugging out of his own jacket. I suddenly realized that I had never once noticed what he was wearing – not just tonight, but ever. I just couldn't seem to look away from his face. I made myself look now, focusing. He was removing a light beige leather jacket now; underneath he wore an ivory turtleneck sweater. It fit him snugly, emphasizing how muscular his chest was.

He handed me the jacket. Interrupting my ogling.

"Thanks," I said again, sliding my arms into his jacket. It was cold – the way my jacket felt when I first picked it up in the morning, hanging in the drafty hallway. I shivered again. It smelled amazing. I inhaled, trying to identify the delicious scent. It didn't smell like cologne. The sleeves were much too long; I shoved them back so I could free my hands.

"That color blue looks lovely with your skin," he said, watching me. I was surprised; I looked down, flushing, of course.

He pushed the bread basket toward me.

"Really, I'm not going into shock," I protested.

"You should be – a _normal_ person would be. You don't even look shaken." He seemed unsettled. He stared into my eyes, and I saw how light his eyes were, lighter than I'd ever seen them, golden butterscotch.

"I feel very safe with you," I confessed. I figured it was better than telling him that I'd had worse happen to me in the past.

That displeased him; his alabaster brow furrowed. He shook his head frowning.

"This is more complicated that I'd planned," he murmured to himself.

I picked up a breadstick and began nibbling on the end, measuring his expression. I wasn't sure if I should speak up yet.

"Usually you're in a better mood when your eyes are so light," I commented, trying to distract him from whatever thought had left him frowning and somber.

He stared at me, stunned. "What?"

"You're always crabbier when your eyes are black – I expect it then," I explained.

"Why do you say that?"

"I know what you are, Edward," I said it softly, looking at him firmly. I wasn't sure if he'd noticed the different word I used. Last time we talked about it, I'd told him I was wondering _who_ he was, not _what_ he was.

"What do you mean?"

"I found some interesting info out over the weekend."

"Explain. Please." His voice sounded strained.

But then the waitress strode around the partition with my food. I realized we'd been unconsciously leaning toward each other across the table, because we both straightened up as she approached. She set the dish in front of me, and turned quickly to Edward.

"Did you change your mind?" she asked. "Isn't there anything I can get for you?" I may have been imagining the double meaning in her words, but I doubted it.

"No, thank you, but some more soda would be nice." He gestured with a long white hand to the empty cups in front of me.

"Sure." She removed the empty glasses and walked away.

"You were about to say?" he asked.

"Before we go any farther, can I verify a couple of things first?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Like what?"

The waitress was back with two more Cokes. She sat them down without a word this time, and left again.

"You told me at the lunch table on Thursday that you were the bad guy. You didn't mean something like mafia or a Russia spy, right?"

"No, I didn't."

"I didn't think so. But I had to make sure. My original thoughts might have been right. I wish they were right." I didn't want to believe he was something other.

"You said you know what I am..."

"Yes." I pulled out the book in the bag I had with me. Thumping it on the table facing him so he could read the the title.

I saw him freeze up completely before he finally looked at me. "You think I'm Dracula?" He was trying to make light of it in his voice, but I wasn't fooled.

"No. Not Dracula, but what he is." I looked down for a moment, screwing up my courage. I looked at him again. "And I don't think you're one. I know you are a vampire," I said it quietly, but my voice didn't waver.

He flinched. "And how did you reach this conclusion."

I looked at the partition, glaring at it. "For me to answer that, I need to start at the beginning."

"Please do." His voice was calm, too calm.

"The night I got back from Panama, when I sat down to eat dinner with Charlie, I asked if he was going fishing with his friend, Billy Black. He told me no, because he'd gotten in an argument with Billy while I was away. You see, Billy wanted my dad to drive your family out of town. He told my dad that your family were cold ones, vampires. My dad naturally assumed Billy had lost it. There is no such thing as vampires after all." I smiled bitterly.

"When he told me, I assumed much the same, that Billy had been smoking the peyote a little too much for his own good. I never believed it was true, Edward." I looked at him then. He looked completely stunned by my words. "I am my father's daughter. The only things that go bump in the night are thieves, rapists and murderers. The supernatural doesn't exist.

"And until Saturday, I firmly believed you were human. You could have even _told me_ you were a vampire, and I would have called you a liar. But Saturday, my world got turned on it's axis." I closed my eyes, remembering Sam exploding and landing as a giant black wolf.

"What happened Saturday?" His voice was wary.

"I have many friends on the Res, I spent a good half of my life there as a young child. Billy Black and his wife, Sarah, practically raised me while my dad was working. I even went to preschool on the Res. One of the many friends I have is a young man named Sam Uley. He's about two years older than me. Well while I was at the res, I went hiking through the forest, wanting to visit a favorite spot of mine.

"Sam was in the forest, he didn't notice I was there. He stripped and then he just exploded into a giant black wolf. A wolf, Edward." I opened my eyes too look at him. His jaw was clenched. "There's no such thing as werewolves. I've believed that my whole life. But I saw a man I've known since I was a little kid turn into one. And if he's a werewolf..." I shrugged.

"Then it makes sense that I could be vampire," he murmured.

"None of it makes sense, Edward. I wish you would tell me that you're an undercover ATF, or that you're a gang banger, or just some average every day human. I wish that I still lived in a world of reality. I'd give anything to roll back to Saturday and _unsee_ Sam turning into a massive black wolf. There's no way for me to do that though. So all I have left... is the irrational. The impossible."

He looked hard at me. "Would you prefer if I told you I was human?"

"It would just be a pretty lie, and, Edward, it's too late for me to believe a lie." I looked at the table.

Edward sighed. "Why aren't you running an screaming, if you now know what I am?"

"Why should I? Sam told me that his kind exist specifically because your kind does. I had a very visual demonstration of how strong he was. If he needs that type of strength, then your kind must match it. That means that if you'd wanted to kill me... I'd already be dead." I shrugged and looked back up at him. "Though you aren't thirsty at the moment."

"Why do you say that?"

"Your eyes. You're always angrier when your eyes are black. Having lived with Charlie my whole life I know that men tend to be nastier when they're hungry."

Edward laughed shortly. "I once accused you of being extraordinarily unobservant. The problem actually seems to be that you are _too_ observant."

I'd been told that before, by my grandmother, when I asked her if Mom was doing the nasty with her boyfriend of the time. I'd been six, and visiting her and grandma Marie for a month during the summer.

"Edward... how can you go out in the day time?"

He laughed again. "Myth."

"What about garlic?" I looked at my food, which I must have been eating without even realizing it, because it was almost half gone. "Running water? Crosses? Coffins?"

"All myths." He watched as I set my fork down. "Actually, I don't sleep."

I looked up, shocked. "Ever?"

"Yes." He looked toward the partition. "Are you ready to go home?" he murmured.

Home? Not at all. I still had more to talk about with him. "I'm ready to leave."

* * *

 **AN:** Once again, would love to see some reviews for this story.


	10. Chapter 9 - Theory

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 9 – Theory**

When we got in the car, I spoke again. "Why are you here in Port Angeles today?"

Edward sighed, starting up the car and accelerated much too quickly out of town. "I was following you."

"Why?" His admission didn't creep me out the way I knew it should – the admittance of following a specific person being one of the early signs of stalking. The problem was that I wanted him to follow me.

"I was worried about you. I don't know why except for your disturbing ability to find trouble wherever you go."

"Hey," I demanded in affront, then happened to glance at the speedometer on then dash. "Holy crow! Slow down!" I screeched the words

"What's wrong?" He was startled. But the car didn't decelerate.

"You're going a hundred miles an hour!" I was shouting. I shot a panicky glance out the window, but it was too dark to see much. The road was only visible in the long patch of bluish brightness from the headlights. The forest along both sides of the road was like a black wall – as hard as a wall of steel if we veered off the road at this speed.

"Relax, Bella." He rolled his eyes, still not slowing.

"Are you trying to kill us?" I demanded.

"We're not going to crash."

I tried to modulate my voice. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I always drive like this." He turned to smile at me crookedly.

"Keep your eyes on the road!"

"I've never been in an accident, Bella – I've never even gotten a ticket." He grinned. "There are a few advantages to being a vampire, instant reflexes is one of them."

"Very funny." I fumed. "I want to be a cop, remember? Like my dad already is. I was raised to abide by traffic laws. Besides, if you turn us into a Volvo pretzel around a tree trunk, you can probably just walk away."

"Probably," he agreed with a short, hard laugh. "But you can't." He sighed, and I watched with relief as the needle gradually drifted toward eighty. "Happy?"

He hadn't even gotten the needle down to eighty yet, and this highway was set at sixty during ideal driving conditions, which at night it certainly wasn't ideal. "Almost."

The speedometer slowly edged down to seventy-five.

"I hate driving slow," he muttered.

"This is slow?"

"Enough commentary on my driving," he snapped.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing at his snark.

There was about ten seconds of silence before I opened my mouth – intending to continue on my line of question about him being in Port Angeles – but what came out was, "I have a theory about you."

"Aside from me being a vampire?"

"That wasn't a theory. That was cold, hard, concrete knowledge." I gritted my teeth.

"Okay, so what's your theory?"

"I think you can read minds. With a few exceptions." I was looking straight ahead as I said it, unwilling to even glance at him. The idea sounded preposterous to my ears, and yet, what other option was there? After all, once you eliminate the possible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, even impossible, must be the truth. I knew I was misquoting that, but it fit the situation I was in now.

"Actually, with just one exception." I looked at him, it was hard to tell in the dark car, but I was fairly sure he was smiling.

"All right, with just one exception, then," I was almost as thrilled to find out he was being open and honest, as I was freaked that I was apparently the only one he couldn't read. "How does that work? What are the limitations? Hoe did you... find me at exactly the right time?" Okay, ideally he'd have made it a couple minutes before he did, but as I was only going to have one bruise in the morning, I'd count it as a win. "How did you even know I was in trouble?"

"If I had been paying attention, the timing wouldn't have needed to be quite so exact." His voice was both wry and bitter. "Only _you_ could get into trouble in a town that small. You would have devastated their crime rate statistics for a decade, you know."

I wondered if I should tell him to look up the May 2001 Forks Forum. I decided against it, there was no point, as I'd gotten through the event with minimal damage.

"I swear, if there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will invariably find you."

"And you put yourself in that category?" I asked.

He glanced at me. "Unequivocally."

I'd already given up trying to convince him to keep his eyes on the road, so I reached out and placed my hand on his leg. It was to show comfort, support, but I also knew how intimate of a gesture it really was. I felt him jerk slightly at my touch, I didn't pull back.

"Thank you," my voice was fervent with gratitude. "That's twice now."

"Let's not try for three, agreed?"

I scowled, but nodded.

"As I already said, I followed you to Port Angeles," he admitted, speaking in a rush. "I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that's probably just because it's you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes." He paused.

I smiled to myself at his words, though he was right.

"Did you ever stop to think my number is up, at least since the van, and you're just messing with fate?" It had been up before that actually, but I saw no point in mentioning any of my history.

"It was before that," he said, and his voice was hard to hear. At least I didn't _think_ he knew my history. "Your number was up the first day I met you."

There was a small bolt of fear that his words caused, but I chased it away viciously. I had wondered about that day since it had happened, but as I'd already told him, if he truly wanted me dead, I was sure I would be.

"You remember?"

"Yes." I was calm.

"And yet you aren't afraid?" There was disbelief in his voice.

"It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't _matter_?" His voice was whip sharp, his carefully composed mask completely gone from what I could see of his face. "It doesn't matter that I'm a vampire who almost killed you on your first day back?"

"No, because I'm still alive. And if I was to be afraid of every _almost_ in my life then I'd never get out of bed." My own anger was rising to match his.

"We're not talking about accidentally falling down the stairs, Bella."

"No, but it's the same equivalent. I can't live my life by what almost occurred. I'd end up in a padded cell if I lived like that."

He hissed through his teeth.

"If you're trying to scare me. It isn't going to be that easy." I took a breath. "Now can you continue answering my questions, please?"

"It was harder than it should be – keeping track of you. Usually I can find someone very easily, once I've heard their mind before."

Which he couldn't do with me, the singular mental mute he'd come across.

"I was keeping tabs on Jessica, not carefully – like I said, only you could find trouble in Port Angeles – and at first I didn't notice when you took off on your own. Then, when I realized that you weren't with her anymore, I went looking for you at the bookstore I saw in her head. The shopkeeper was thinking about other stuff when I got there, but I could tell you weren't there anymore. I knew you went west, through a section of warehouses so I started driving toward downtown, assuming you were taking a shortcut to get there as that's where your friends went. But then you didn't show..." He was lost in thought, seeing things I couldn't imagine.

"So I started randomly searching through the thoughts of people on the street – to see if anyone had noticed you so I would know where you were. I had no reason to be worried... but I was strangely anxious... I started to drive in circles, still... listening. The sun was finally setting, and I was about to get out and follow you on foot. And then –" He stopped, his teeth snapping together with an audible noise.

"Then what?" I whispered.

"I heard what they were thinking," he growled. "I saw your face in his mind." His hands clenched around the steering wheel, and I was a little concerned what we'd do if he accidentally ripped it out. "It was very... hard – you can't imagine how hard – for me to simply take you away, and leave them... alive. I could have let you go with Jessica and Angela, but I was afraid if you left me alone, I would go looking for them."

He didn't need to explain what would have happened had he done that. I was quite certain that I already knew.

"How did you know which direction I went, anyways?"

He didn't answer immediately.

"Aren't we past all the evasiveness?"

I could almost make out the the brief flicker of a smile.

"Fine, then. I followed your scent."

I blinked. I couldn't think of an acceptable response to that.

I changed the subject back to his clairaudiance.

"So how does the mind reading thing work? Can you read anybody's mind, anywhere? How do you do it? And can the rest of your family do it as well?"

"No, it's just me. And I can't hear anyone, anywhere. I have to be fairly close. The more familiar someone's... mental voice is, the farther away I can hear them. But still no more than a few miles." He paused thoughtfully. "It's a little like being in a huge hall filled with people, everyone talking at once. It's just a hum – a buzzing of voices in the background. Until I focus on one voice, and then what they're thinking is clear.

"Most of the time I tune it all out – it can be very distracting. And then it's easier to seem _normal_ " – I could just make out him as he frowned upon saying the word - "when I'm not accidentally answering someone's thoughts rather than their words."

"Why do you think you can't hear me?" I asked curiously.

He looked at me, once again ignoring the need to watch the road.

"I don't know," he murmured. "The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM." He grinned at me, suddenly amused.

"My mind doesn't work right? I'm a freak?" The word bothered me more than they should – probably because his speculation hit home. I'd always suspected as much, and it embarrassed me to have it confirmed.

"I'm a vampire that hears voices in my mind and you're worried that _you're_ the freak." He laughed.

I let out a short, slightly hysterical, laugh at his words.

"I get your point." A mere four days ago if he'd told me this, I'd have recommended he got clinical help.

"You haven't asked me the most important question yet." His voice was hard now, and when he looked at me again his eyes were cold.

I blinked. "Which one is that?"

"You aren't concerned about my diet?" he asked sarcastically.

"Oh," I murmured, "that."

"Yes, that." His voice was bleak. "Don't you want to know if I drink blood?"

I flinched, but held firm on what I had told him earlier. "It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter to you if I drink blood? If I _murder_ people?"

"How do I even know what murder is anymore?" I demanded, the anger in my voice exceedingly clear.

"You know right from wrong."

"Do I, Edward? A week ago I would have agreed with you. A week ago I had never seen a wolf burst from the body of a boy I grew up with. A week ago, a shopkeeper who has never known my name hadn't called me by my name while handing me a stone to 'protect my love.' A week ago, you were just a human boy to me. So you tell me, is killing a weaker species for sustenance murder? Or is it the normal lifestyle of a hunter? If that's what you even do."

He yanked off the side of the road, pulling to a stop. We were still a few miles out of Forks. He was out of the car and at my door so suddenly that my eyes couldn't follow. He reached in, unbuckling my seat belt before physically pulling me out and onto my feet.

"Are you seriously telling me that killing a human isn't murder?" His voice was violent.

"The definition of murder is one human killing another human, look it up. And, Edward, you aren't human!" I shouted the words.

His eyes flashed violently and I had half a moment to wonder if he would actually kill _me_ , before he suddenly just... deflated. There was no other word for the way the anger just zapped out of him. "I once was."

The words were hardly a whisper. If we'd still been driving down the road, I'd have never heard it.

I let the anger fade away. "Do you kill people?" I asked it softly. I'd already accepted the most likely fate I was going to have from pursuing a relationship with him.

"No. At least my family and I don't. We prey on animals instead, big game like deer and elk. But we're a rarity, most vampires do partake of a normal diet of human blood. That's why our eyes turn gold, of course. The animal blood. Normal vampires have red eyes."

"So, even if I was to judge you by human terms, you aren't a murderer."

"Don't let that make you complacent, though," he warned me. "We're still dangerous."

I already knew he was dangerous, he'd just pulled me out of the car like I weighed two pounds. "Explain, please."

"We try," he explained slowly. "We're usually very good at what we do. Sometimes we makes mistakes. Me, for example, allowing myself to be alone with you."

"This is a mistake?" I heard the sadness in my voice, but I didn't know if he could as well.

"A very dangerous one," he murmured.

We were both silent then. I wondered if he could see the genuine sadness in my eyes as he was watching me. Finally he turned away from me, walking slowly around the car and getting back in. It took me a moment, but I forced myself to sit back in the passenger seat. I was aware of the time slipping away so quickly, and I was hideously afraid that I would never have another chance to be with him like this again – the walls between us gone for once. His words hinted at an end.

Was this going to be when he said goodbye to me and leave me by myself? Now that I'd found someone who finally made my heart beat faster, was this all the time I'd get to spend with him?

I couldn't waste one minute I had with him.

"Tell me more," I asked desperately, not caring what he said, just so I could hear his voice again.

He looked at me quickly, startled by the change in my tone. "What more do you want to know?"

"Tell me why you hunt animals instead of people," I suggested, my voice still tinged with desperation. I realized my eyes were wet, and I fought against the grief that was trying to overpower me.

"I don't _want_ to be a monster." His voice was very low.

"But animals aren't enough?"

He paused. "I can't be sure, of course, but I'd compare it to living on tofu and soy milk; we call ourselves vegetarians, our little inside joke. It doesn't completely satiate the hunger – or rather thirst. But it keeps us strong enough to resist. Most of the time." His tone turned ominous. "Sometimes it's more difficult than others."

"Is it very difficult for you now?" I asked.

He sighed. "Yes."

"Were you hunting this weekend with Emmett?"

"Yes." He paused for a second, as if deciding whether or not to say something. "I didn't want to leave, but it was necessary. It's a bit easier to be around you when I'm not thirsty."

"Why didn't you want to leave?"

"It makes me... anxious... to be away from you." His voice was gentle but intense, and it was making my bones turn to mush. "I wasn't joking when I asked you to try not to fall into the ocean or get run over last Thursday. I was distracted all weekend, worrying about you. And after what happened tonight, I'm surprised that you did make it through a whole weekend unscathed." He shook his head, and then seemed to remember something. "Well, not totally unscathed."

"What?"

"Your hands," he reminded me. I looked down at my palms, at the almost healed scrapes across the heels of my hands. His eyes missed nothing.

"I fell," I sighed.

"That's what I thought." His lips curved up at the corners. "I suppose, being you, it could have been much worse – and that possibility tormented me the entire time I was away. It was a very long three days. I really got on Emmett's nerves."

It almost had been a lot worse, but I wasn't about to tell him I'd thrown myself into the ocean while a storm was hitting.

"Three days? Didn't you just get back today?"

"No, we got back Sunday."

"Then why weren't you in school?" I was frustrated, almost angry as I thought of how much disappointment I had suffered because of his absence.

"Well, you asked about going out in the day. And as I told you, I can. But I can't go out in the sunlight – at least, not where anyone can see."

"Why?"

"I'll show you sometime," he promised.

I thought about it for a moment.

"You might have called me," I decided.

He was puzzled. "But I knew you were safe."

"But _I_ didn't know _you_ were. I –" I hesitated, dropping my eyes.

"What?" His velvety voice was compelling even without the power of his eyes.

"I didn't like it. Not seeing you. It makes me anxious, too." I blushed.

He was quiet. I glanced up, apprehensive, and saw that his expression was pained.

"Ah," he groaned quietly. "This is wrong."

I couldn't understand his response. "What did I say?"

"Don't you see, Bella? It's one thing for me to make myself miserable, but a wholly other thing for you to be so involved." His words flowed almost too fast for me to understand. "I don't want to hear that you feel that way." His voice was low but urgent. His words cut me. "It's wrong. It's not safe. I'm dangerous, Bella – please, grasp that."

"No." I tried very hard not to look like a sulky child.

"I'm serious," he growled.

"So am I. I already told you, it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. Your safety is all that matters." His voice was furious again.

I turned away, trying to force back the tears that I could feel coming on.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, his voice still raw. I just shook my head, not sure if I could speak. I could feel his gaze on my face, but I kept my eyes forward.

"Are you crying?" He sounded appalled. I hadn't realized the moisture in my eyes had brimmed over. I quickly rubbed my hand across my cheek, and sure enough, traitor tears were there, betraying me.

"No," I said, but my voice cracked.

We pulled up in front of my house just then, and I knew my time was almost up.

I forced myself to ask the one question I hadn't yet.

"How old are you really, Edward?" My voice was still thick, but I ignored it and shrugged out of Edward's jacket.

"I'm seventeen."

I didn't believe that for a second. "How long have you been seventeen?"

"A while." I figured that was the best I was going to get for now. I unbuckled my seat belt and opened my door. "Will I see you tomorrow?" I looked away as I asked.

"Yes – I have homework that is due. And I believe I need to give you your paper back." He paused briefly. "I'll save you a seat at lunch."

It was silly, after everything we'd been through tonight, how that little promise sent flutters through my stomach, making my heart skyrocket with excitement.

I turned to look at him. "Do you _promise_ to be there tomorrow?"

"I promise."

I handed him his jacket, putting one foot on the ground to get out as I did so. He opened his mouth to say something, but I already started to talk. "And, Edward, while you're talking about my safety, did you ever consider the safety of my heart? Because if you think you can just leave one of these days and not leave me bleeding and raw on the inside, then you are sadly mistaken. It's far too late for that." I got out, slamming the door shut before he could reply, then I ran for my house door.

* * *

 **AN:** As always, looking for reviews on this story.


	11. Chapter 10 - Interrogations

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 10 – Interrogations**

After I got inside, I called out to Charlie, letting him know I was home.

"You're home early," he called back from the living room

I looked at the clock on the wall. He was right, it wasn't even eight. I reminded myself that I would tell him what happened. Of course, I was going to leave out Edward. "Yeah, my night got cut a little short," I said, my voice wry and a little bitter as I walked into the living room. I rolled up my shirt sleeve so he could see the bruise that was already starting to form.

He bolted up from his chair, coming straight over to me. "Where the hell did that come from, Bell?"

"I went to that book store on the east end of town. You know, the one I'm not that big of a fan of. Well we were close by, so I walked there. Angela and Jessica decided to walk down to the bay area, and I said I'd meet them. I took the shortcut..." I looked away, feeling guilty. "You know the way through the warehouses that you always tell me is dangerous. It was still light out, albeit getting darker, but about halfway to my destination, I started being followed."

I swallowed. "I accidentally made a wrong turn in my hurry to get away from them and got cornered in an alley." I looked back at Charlie who looked sick. "Aside from this bruise they didn't touch me, all those self defense classes I've been taking really helped, but they could try to do it again. Someone else might not be so lucky."

Charlie's relief that the only injury was my arm was palpable. Finally he walked over to his jacket, pulling out a notepad. "Can you describe them to me?"

I went over the details I remembered, advising him of the different features I'd noticed and everything the speaker had said, but aside from the speaker, I wasn't able to describe that much about the others, I just hadn't been focused enough on them. "I'm sorry, dad. The others, they just didn't catch my focus the way the speaker did."

He'd been writing the whole time I'd been talking. "It seems like you managed to identify the real threat. You did good, Bell."

I went to bed after that, checking things on my computer briefly before taking a long shower, trying to physically wash away any evidence of meeting those men.

Finally, after using all the hot water up, I crawled into bed, letting my exhaustion consume me. Before I lost complete consciousness, a few certainties became evident.

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him – and I didn't know how potent that part might be – that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

. . .

It wasn't until the next morning before school that I remembered to call Jessica.

I didn't let her start the interrogation that I was certain she was planning. "I left my jacket in your car last night – could you bring it to school with you?

"Sure. But tell me what happened!" she demanded.

"Thanks, I'll see you in Trig, bye," I said, practically talking over her in my rush to hang up the phone.

Charlie was already gone for the day, something that didn't surprise me.

I headed outside to find that it was unusually foggy; the air was almost smoky with it. The mist was ice cold where it clung to the exposed skin on my face and neck. I couldn't wait to get the heat going in my truck. It was such a thick fog that I was a few feet down the driveway before I realized there was a car in it: a silver car. My heart thudded, stuttered, and then picked up again in double time.

I didn't see where he came from, but suddenly he was there, pulling the door open for me.

"Do you want to ride with me today?" he asked, amused by my expression as he caught me by surprise yet again. There was uncertainty in his voice. He was really giving me a choice – I was free to refuse, and part of him hoped for that. It was a vain hope.

"Yes, thank you," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. As I stepped into the warm car, I noticed his tan jacket was slung over the headrest of the passenger seat. The door closed behind me, and, sooner than should be possible, he was sitting next to me, starting the car.

"I brought the jacket for you. I didn't want you to get sick or something." His voice was guarded. I noticed that he wore no jacket himself, just a light gray knit V-neck shirt with long sleeves. Again, the fabric clung to his perfectly muscled chest. It was a colossal tribute to his face that it kept my eyes away from his body.

"I'm not quite that delicate," I said even as I pulled the jacket onto my lap, resisting to glance at my arm as I did so. It was sore, the muscles feeling as bruised as the skin.

"Aren't you?" he contradicted in a voice so low I wasn't sure if he meant for me to hear.

We drove through the fog-shrouded streets, always too fast, feeling awkward. I was, at least. Last night all the walls were down... almost all. I didn't know if we were still being as candid today. It left me tongue-tied. I waited for him to speak.

He turned to smirk at me. "What, no twenty questions today?"

"Do my questions bother you?" I asked, relieved.

"Not as much as your reactions do." He looked like he was joking, but I couldn't be sure.

I frowned. "Do I react badly?"

"No, that's the problem. You take everything so coolly – it's unnatural. It makes me wonder what you're really thinking."

"I always tell you what I'm really thinking." Well... most of the time.

"You edit," he accused.

"Not very much."

"Enough to drive me insane."

"You don't want to hear it," I snapped. As soon as the words were out, I regretted them.

He didn't respond, and I wondered if I had ruined the mood. His face was unreadable as we drove into the school parking lot. Something occurred to me belatedly.

"Where's the rest of your family?" I asked – more than glad to be alone with him, but remembering his car was usually full.

"They took Rosalie's car." He shrugged as he parked next to a glossy red convertible with the top up. "Ostentatious, isn't it?"

"Um, wow," I breathed. "If she has _that_ , why does she ride with you?"

"Like I said, it's ostentatious. We _try_ to blend in."

"You fail," I muttered, shaking my head as we got out of the car and I stopped to put the leather jacket on. "So why did Rosalie drive today if it's more conspicuous?"

"Hadn't you noticed? I'm breaking _all_ the rules now." He met me at the front of the car, staying very close to my side as we walked onto campus. I wanted to close that little distance, to reach out and touch him, but I was afraid he wouldn't like me to.

"Why do you have cars like that at all?" I wondered aloud. "If you're looking for privacy."

"An indulgence," he admitted with an impish smile. "We all like to drive fast."

"Figures," I muttered under my breath.

Under the shelter of the cafeteria's roof overhang, Jessica was waiting, her eyes about to bug out of her sockets. Over her arm, bless her, was my jacket.

"Hey, Jessica," I said when we were a few feet away. "Thanks for bringing it."

She handed me my jacket without speaking, glancing between the two of us in a way that promised trouble, for me.

"Good morning, Jessica," Edward said politely. It wasn't really his fault that his voice was so irresistible. Or what his eyes were capable of.

"Er... hi." She shifted her wide eyes to me, trying to gather her jumbled thoughts. "I guess I'll see you in Trig." She gave me a meaningful look, and I suppressed a sigh. What on earth was I going to tell her?

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

She walked away, pausing twice to peek back over her shoulder at us.

"What are you going to tell her?" Edward murmured.

"Hey, I thought you couldn't read my mind!" I hissed.

"I can't," he said, startled. The understanding brightened his eyes. "However, I can read hers – she'll be waiting to ambush you in class."

I groaned as I pulled off his jacket and handed it to him, replacing it with my own. He folded it over his arm.

"So what are you going to tell her?"

"A little help?" I pleaded. "What does she want to know?"

He shook his head, grinning wickedly. "That's not fair."

"No, you not sharing what you know – now _that's_ not fair."

He deliberated for a moment as we walked. We stopped outside the door to my first class.

"She wants to know if we're secretly dating. And she wants to know how you feel about me," he finally said.

"Yikes. What should I say?" I tried to keep my expression very innocent. People were passing us on their way to class, probably staring, but I was barely aware of them.

"Hmmm." He paused to catch a stray lock of hair that was escaping the twist on my neck and wound it back into place. My heart spluttered hyper-actively. "I suppose you could say yes to the first... if you don't mind – it's easier than any other explanation."

"I don't mind," I said in a faint voice.

"And as for her other question... well, I'll be listening to hear the answer to that one myself." One side of his mouth pulled up into my favorite uneven smile.

I struggled to catch my breath as he turned to walk away. "Edward..." He looked over his shoulder at me. "The answer's yes." He wasn't the only one capable of breaking the rules.

I hurried into class before he could reply. I hated that he was such a cheat. How was I going to respond to Jessica now? I sat in my usual seat, slamming my bag down in aggravation.

"Morning, Bella," Mike said from the seat next to me. I looked up to see an odd, almost resigned look on his face. "How was Port Angeles?"

"It was..." There was no honest way to sum it up. "Great," I finished lamely. "Jessica got a really cute dress."

"Did she say anything about Monday night?" he asked, his eyes brightening. I smiled at the turn the conversation had taken.

"She said she had a really good time," I assured him.

"She did?" he asked eagerly.

"Most definitely."

Mr. Mason called the class to order then, asking us to turn in our papers. English and then Government passed in a blur, while I worried about how to explain things to Jessica and agonized over whether Edward would really be listening to what I thought through the medium of Jess's thoughts. How very inconvenient his little talent could be – when it wasn't saving my life.

The fog had almost dissolved by the end of the second hour, but the day was still dark with low hanging clouds. I smiled up at the sky.

Edward was right, of course. When I walked into Trig, Jessica was sitting in the back row, nearly bouncing off her seat in agitation. I reluctantly went to sit by her, sorely tempted to _accidentally_ trip and sprain my ankle the whole way, even while I was trying to convince myself it would be better to get it over with as soon as possible.

"Tell me everything!" she commanded before I was in the seat.

"What do you want to know?" I hedged.

"What happened last night?"

"He bought me dinner, and then he drove me home."

She glanced at me, her expression stiff with skepticism. "What were you doing with him before that?"

"I told you, I ran into him outside of the bookstore."

"Really, why were you gone so long then?"

"We were talking."

"About?" she demanded.

I tried to think of a topic that wouldn't get me in too much trouble. The light bulb flashed. "My desire to run over Tyler," I said it just loud enough that he would hear me.

He stiffened two seats in front of us. I grinned.

"Was it like a date – did you tell him to meet you there?"

I hadn't been prepared for that. "No – I was _very_ surprised to see him there."

Her lips puckered in disappointment at the transparent honesty in my voice.

"But he picked you up for school today?" she probed.

"Yes – that was a surprise, too. He noticed I didn't have a jacket last night," I explained.

"So are you going to go out again?"

"We're going to go down to Tacoma this weekend together, though I think _I_ should drive. He drives like a maniac." I hoped he heard that.

"W-o-w." She exaggerated the word into three syllables. "Edward Cullen."

"I know," I agreed.

"Wait!" Her hands flew up, palms toward me like she was stopping traffic. "Has he kissed you?"

"No," I mumbled. "It's not like that."

She looked disappointed. I'm sure I did, too.

"Do you think Saturday...?" She raised her eyebrows.

"I wish." The discontent in my voice was obvious.

"What did you talk about with him at dinner?" She pushed for more information in a whisper. Class had started but Mr. Varner wasn't paying close attention and we weren't the only ones still talking.

"I don't know, Jess, lots of stuff," I whispered back. "We talked about schoolwork a little." A very, very little. As in one sentence.

"Please, Bella," she begged. "Give me some details."

"Well... okay, I've got one. You should have seen the waitress flirting with him – it was over the top. But he didn't pay any attention to her at all." Let him make he could of that.

"That's a good sign," she nodded. "Was she pretty?"

"Very – and probably nineteen or twenty."

"Even better. He must like you."

"I _think_ so, but it's hard to tell. He's always so cryptic," I threw in for his benefit, sighing.

"I don't know how you're brave enough to be alone with him," she breathed.

"Why?" I was shocked, but she didn't understand my reaction.

"He's so... intimidating. I wouldn't know what to say to him." She made a face, probably remembering this morning or last night, when he'd turned the overwhelming force of his eyes on her.

"I do have some trouble with incoherency when I'm around him," I admitted.

"Oh well. He _is_ unbelievably gorgeous." Jessica shrugged as if this excused any flaws. Which, in her book, it usually did.

"There's a lot more to him than that." I instantly regretted my words, even before she opened her mouth to respond.

"Really? Like what?"

I really wished I had let it go. Almost as much as I was hoping he'd been kidding about listening in.

"I can't explain it right... but he's even more unbelievable _behind_ the face." The vampire who wanted to be good – who ran around saving people's lives so he wouldn't be a monster... I stared toward the front of the room.

"Is that _possible_?" She giggled.

I ignored her, trying to look like I was paying attention to Mr. Varner.

"So you like him, then?" She wasn't about to give up.

"Yes," I said curtly.

"I mean, do you _really_ like him?" she urged.

"Yes," I said again, blushing. I hoped that detail wouldn't register in her thoughts.

She'd had enough with the single syllable answers. "How _much_ do you like him?"

"Too much," I whispered back. "More than he likes me. But I don't see how I can help that." I sighed, one blush blending into the next.

Then, thankfully, Mr. Varner called on Jessica for an answer.

She didn't get a chance to start on the subject again during class, and as soon as class ended, I took evasive action.

"In English, Mike asked me if you said anything about Monday night," I told her.

"You're kidding! What did you say?!" she gasped, completely sidetracked.

"I told him you said you had a lot of fun – he looked pleased."

"Tell me exactly what he said, and your exact answer!"

We spent the rest of the walk to her Biology class dissecting sentence structures until we split ways so I could head to Art. We met back up in Spanish talking over a minute description of Mike's facial expressions. I wouldn't have helped draw it out for as long as I did if I wasn't worried about the subject returning to me.

And then it was time for lunch. As I jumped up out of my seat, shoving my books roughly in my bag, my uplifted expression must have tipped Jessica off.

"You're not sitting with us today, are you?" she guessed.

"I don't _think_ so." I couldn't be sure that he wouldn't disappear inconveniently again.

But outside the door to our Spanish class, leaning against the wall – looking more like a Greek god than anyone had a right to – Edward was waiting for me. Jessica took one look, rolled her eyes, and departed.

"See you later, Bella." Her voice was thick with implications. I might have to turn off the ringer on the phone... and block her from my email.

"Hello." His voice was amused and irritated at the same time. He had been listening, it was obvious.

"Hi."

I couldn't think of anything else to say, and he didn't speak – biding his time, I presumed – so it was a quiet walk to the cafeteria. Walking with Edward through the crowded lunchtime rush was a lot like the first day back from Panama. Everyone stared.

He led the way into the line, still not speaking, though his eyes returned to my face every few seconds, their expression speculative. It seemed to me that irritation was winning out over amusement as the dominant emotion in his face. I fidgeted nervously with the zipper on my jacket.

He stepped up to the counter and filled a tray with food.

"What are you doing?" I objected. "You're not getting all that for me?"

He shook his head, stepping forward to buy the food.

"Half is for me, of course."

I raised one eyebrow.

He led the way to the same place we'd sat last Thursday. From a nearby table, a group of jocks gazed at us in amazement as we sat across from each other. Edward seemed oblivious.

"Take whatever you want," he said, pushing the tray toward me.

"I'm curious," I said as I picked up an orange, turning it around in my hands. "What would you do if someone dared you to eat food?"

"You're always curious." He grimaced, shaking his head. He glared at me, holding my eyes as he lifted the slice of pizza off the tray, and deliberately bit off a mouthful, chewed quickly, and then swallowed. I watched, eyes wide.

"If someone dared you to eat dirt, you could, couldn't you?" he asked condescendingly.

I wrinkled my nose. "I did once... on a dare." I still remembered when Jacob had dared me to do that. "It wasn't so bad."

He laughed. "I suppose I'm not surprised." Something over my shoulder seemed to catch his attention.

"Jessica's analyzing everything I do – she'll break it down for you later."

I wasn't surprised. It sounded so typically Jessica.

He pushed the rest of the pizza toward me. The mention of Jessica brought a hint of his former irritation back to his features.

I put down the orange and took a bite of the pizza, looking away, knowing he was about to start.

"So the waitress was pretty, was she?" he asked casually.

"You really didn't notice?"

"No. I wasn't paying attention. I had a lot on my mind."

"Poor girl." I could afford to be generous now.

"Something you said to Jessica... well, it bothers be." He refused to be distracted. His voice was husky, and he glanced up from under his lashes with troubled eyes.

"I'm not surprised you heard something you didn't like. You know what they say about eavesdroppers," I reminded him.

"I warned you I would be listening."

"And I warned you that you didn't want to know everything I was thinking."

"You did," he agreed, but his voice was still rough. "You aren't precisely right, though. I do want to know what you're thinking – everything. I just wish... that you wouldn't be thinking some things."

I scowled. "That's quite a distinction."

"Buy that's not really the point at the moment."

"Then what is?" We were inclined toward each other across the table now. He had his large white hands folded under his chin; I leaned forward, my right hand cupped around my neck. I had to remind myself that we were in a crowded lunchroom, with probably many curious eyes on us. It was too easy to get wrapped up in your own private, tense little bubble.

"Do you truly believe that you care for me more than I do for you?" he murmured, leaning closer to me as he spoke, his dark golden eyes piercing.

I tried to remember how to exhale. I had to look away before it came back to me.

"You're doing it again," I muttered.

His eyes opened wide with surprise. "What?"

"Dazzling me," I admitted, trying to concentrate as I looked back at him.

"Oh." He frowned.

"It's not your fault," I sighed. "You can't help it."

"Are you going to answer the question?"

I looked down. "Yes."

"Yes, you are going to answer, or yes, you really think that?" He was irritated again.

"Yes, I really think that." I kept my eyes down on the table, my eyes tracing the pattern of the faux wood grains printed on the laminate. The silence dragged on. I stubbornly refused to be the first to break it this time, fighting hard against the temptation to peek at his expression.

Finally he spoke, voice velvet soft. "You're wrong."

I glanced up to see that his eyes were gentle.

"You can't know that," I disagreed in a whisper. I shook my head in doubt, though my heart throbbed at his words and I wanted so badly to believe them.

"What makes you think so?" His liquid topaz eyes were penetrating – trying futilely, I assumed, to lift the truth straight from my mind.

I stared back, struggling to think clearly in spite of his face, to find some way to explain. As I searched for the words, I could see him getting impatient; frustrated by my silence, he started to scowl. I lifted my hand from my neck, and held up one finger.

"Let me think," I insisted. His expression cleared, now that he was satisfied that I was planning to answer. I dropped my hand to the table, moving my left hand so that my palms were pressed together. I stared at my hands, twisting and untwisting my fingers, as I finally spoke.

"Well, aside from the obvious, sometimes..." I hesitated. "I can't be sure – _I_ don't know how to read minds – but sometimes it seems like you're trying to say goodbye when you're saying something else." That was the best way I could sum up the sensation of anguish that his words triggered in me at times.

"Perceptive," he whispered. And there was the anguish again, surfacing as he confirmed my fear. "That's exactly why you're wrong, though," he began to explain, but then his eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'the obvious'?"

"Well, look at me," I said, unnecessarily as he was already staring. "I'm absolutely ordinary – well except for bad things like all the near-death experiences and being so clumsy that I'm almost disabled. And look at you." I waved my hand toward him and all his bewildering perfection.

His brow creased angrily for a moment, then smoothed as his eyes took on a knowing look. "You don't see yourself very clearly, you know. I'll admit you're dead-on about the bad things," he chuckled blackly, "But you don't hear what almost every human male thinks of you here at school."

I brushed his comment off. "I'm the police chief's daughter. Most of them just want in my pants to mark it as a notch on their bed post." It was crass, but I knew it was true. I'd seen Austin Marks list.

His eyes flashed. "Trust me just this once – you are the opposite of ordinary."

My embarrassment was much stronger that my pleasure at the look that came into his eyes when he said this. I quickly reminded him of the original argument.

"But I'm not saying goodbye," I pointed out.

"Don't you see? That's what proves me right. I care the most, because if I can do it –" he shook his head, seeming to struggle with the thought "– If leaving is the right thing to do, then I'll hurt myself to keep from hurting you, to keep you safe."

"No." My voice was cold and cut off. "It just makes you selfish."

"What?" The steam seemed to have blown out of him thanks to my words.

"I've seen the damage that something like what your saying tends to cause. I can't stop you from leaving, but I want you to understand something. If you leave, you're doing it for yourself, not me."

"You're wrong. It proves how much I want to protect you."

I glared. "Edward, have you ever, in your entire life, known someone that walked away. Be it because they were saying it was for love or protection or just because they could. Someone that you truly cared for?"

Edward didn't reply right away.

I took it as being a no. "Then don't, ever, claim it is for my own good, because I'll tell you something. When my mother walked out in the night leaving only a note as to why she left, that it would have been far less cruel, and far less painful, had she physically stabbed a knife in Charlie's heart. It's been long enough now that I've come to understand that my mother was just too irresponsible and erratic to have ever stayed with Charlie. As a result, I can forgive her for what she did. But that pain is still a constant in Charlie's life.

"I am my father's daughter, and at the end of the day, if I ever willingly gave my heart to someone and then they walked away... There would be nothing on earth, heaven, or hell that would make it right again." I would rather die was implied, but left unsaid.

I didn't say it as I looked in his eyes, but it wasn't an if. It was far too late for an if. I didn't know when or why, but at some point, Edward had become the center of my world.

He looked at me seriously, but I couldn't be sure from his ambivalent eyes if he actually believed and understood what I was telling him. "Of course, keeping you safe is beginning to feel like a full-time occupation that requires my constant presence."

I was grateful that he hadn't yet figured out he was fighting a losing battle. "No one has tried to do away with me today."

"Yet," he added.

"Yet," I agreed.

"I have another question for you." His face was still casual.

"Shoot."

"I hate to ask this now that you finally agreed to let me take you to Tacoma, but is there any way we can put it off until Sunday."

"Why?" I was confused.

"The weather will be nice, so I'll be staying out of the public eye... and you can stay with me, if you'd like to." Again, he was leaving the choice up to me.

"And you'll show me what you meant, about the sun?" I asked.

"Yes." He smiled, and then paused. "But if you don't want to be... alone with me, I'd still rather you didn't go to Tacoma by yourself. I shudder to think of the trouble you could find in a city that size."

I was miffed. "I've been to Tacoma many times before."

"But, apparently," he interrupted me, "your number wasn't up then. So I'd rather you be near me." His eyes did that unfair smoldering thing.

"As it so happens, I don't mind being alone with you." In fact, that was why I'd finally said yes to him going to Tacoma with me.

"I know," he sighed, brooding. "Will you tell Charlie?"

I thought of Charlie's horror when I'd told him two years ago I'd agreed to go out on a date with Tyler, and he and I had both knew that I was dating him sheerly to prove I was capable of doing it. It was why Tyler had really never made it past hand holding and an occasional hug. I didn't have to imagine Charlie's reaction if he found out I actually found a guy I truly liked.

"With Charlie, less is always more." I was definite about that.

I could tell that he wasn't happy about that answer.

"I can tell my mom though. She'll be glad to hear I'm being a normal teenage girl." I was hoping it would appease him. At least a little.

It appeared to help, because his eyes cleared ever so slightly.

"Were you hunting bears on Goat Rocks last weekend?" I asked, needing to change the subject.

"Yes."

"You know, bears are not in season," I said severely. I'd done a search online last night to verify that fact.

"If you read carefully, the laws only covered hunting with weapons," he informed me.

I blinked, trying to keep my shock hidden. "Why bears?"

"Grizzly is Emmett's favorite." His voice was still off-hand, but his eyes were scrutinizing my reaction.

"Hmmm," I said, taking another bite of pizza as an excuse to look down. I chewed slowly, and then took a drink of Coke without looking up.

"So," I said after a moment, finally meeting his now-anxious gaze. "What's your favorite?"

He raised an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth turned down in disapproval. "Mountain lion."

"Ah," I said in a politely disinterested tone, looking for my soda again.

"Of course," he said, and his tone mirrored mine, "We have to be careful not to impact the environment with injudicious hunting. We try to focus on areas with an overpopulation of predators – ranging as far away as we need. There's always plenty of deer and elk here, and they'll do, but where's the fun in that?" He smiled teasingly.

Deer were plenty _fun_ , if by fun he meant a pain in the ass. I knew, I'd gone hunting with Charlie for deer before. Of course, we'd been using rifles, and he'd said they didn't use weapons. "Where indeed ," I murmured around another bite of pizza.

"Early spring is Emmett's favorite bear season – they're just coming out of hibernation, so they're more irritable." He smiled at some remembered joke.

"Nothing more fun than an irritated grizzly," I agreed, nodding, replacing fun with terrifying in my head.

He snickered, shaking his head. "Tell me what you're really thinking, please."

"I'm trying to picture it – but I can't," I admitted. "How do you hunt a bear without weapons?"

"Oh, we have weapons." He flashed his bright teeth in a brief, threatening smile. I fought back a shiver before it could expose me. "Just not the kind they consider when writing hunting laws. If you've ever seen a bear attack on television, you should be able to visualize Emmett hunting."

I couldn't stop the next shiver that flashed down my spine. I peeked across the cafeteria toward Emmett, grateful that he wasn't looking my way. The thick bands of muscle that wrapped his arms and torso were somehow even more menacing now.

Edward followed my gaze and chuckled. I stared at him, unnerved.

"Are you like a bear, too?" I asked in a low voice.

"More like the lion, or so they tell me," he said lightly. "Perhaps our preferences are indicative."

I tried to smile. "Perhaps," I repeated. But my mind was filled with opposing images that I couldn't merge together. "Is that something I might get to see?"

"Absolutely not!" His face turned even whiter than usual, and his eyes were suddenly furious. I leaned back, stunned and – though I'd never admit it aloud – frightened by his reaction. He leaned back as well, folding his arms across his chest.

"Too scary for me?" I asked when I could control my voice again.

"If that were it, I would take you out tonight," he said, his voice cutting. "You _need_ a healthy dose of fear. Nothing could be more beneficial to you."

"Then why?" I pressed, trying to ignore his angry expression.

He glared at me for a long moment.

"Later," he finally said. He was on his feet in one lithe movement. "We're going to be late."

I glanced around, startled to see that he was right and the cafeteria was nearly vacant. When I was with him, the time and the place were such a muddled blur that I completely lost track of both. I jumped up, grabbing my bag from the back of my chair.

"Later, then," I agreed. I wouldn't forget.


	12. Chapter 11 - Complications

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 11 - Complications**

Everyone watched us as we walked together into class and took our seats side by side. As was the Wednesday tradition, Mr. Berty called for us to start working on our essays, so we turned our desks to face each other.

Edward pulled out a pile of papers and handed them to me. It took me reading exactly one paragraph to realize something was off. Oh, it looked like my normal messy handiwork, but there was one seriously big problem with it. It wasn't my paper.

"This isn't mine," I hissed.

"Sure it is." He looked perfectly innocent. As Charlie would say, too innocent.

"I know what I wrote and I don't embellish like this."

He kept his innocent expression for about another thirty seconds before his lips finally twitched. "Fine, I edited it, a little."

"A little, my ass," I muttered under my breath, looking down at the paper again. It was handwritten in pen, so for him to have even changed just one word, he would have had to rewrote the entire thing.

"What was that?" he asked politely, the voice innocent again.

My eyes flashed up to him. "You heard me." And even though I knew, had it been Eric or Mike or any of the other boys I'd known my whole life I'd be angry as hell, I couldn't find it in me to get truly angry at him.

"Ahem," Mr. Berty said loudly. I looked up toward him, flinching when I realized he was glaring at Edward and I, even though I knew others had been talking as well. "If people don't want to work, I'm sure there's another film we can watch to help further your research."

Everybody shut up, going back to work on their papers.

Edward handed me a piece of paper.

 _I have a question. If I'd asked you to the dance this Saturday, would you have said yes to me?_

I looked at the paper for a minute before I quickly wrote back.

 **Not even if pigs grew wings and started to fly.**

I'd learned a long time ago that simply claiming when pigs flew was not enough, people started pointed out things like pigs in airplanes when I did that. I passed it back to him.

 _Why not?_

The note was back in front of me almost quicker than I could blink.

 **You've never seen me in Gym, I guess, but I would have thought you would understand.**

And so we continued to pass it back and forth

 _Are you referring to the fact that you can't walk across a flat, stable surface without finding something to trip over?_

 **Obviously.**

 _That wouldn't be a problem. It's all in the leading_

 **Cocky much?**

He flashed me a smirk, smoothly folding the paper up and setting one down in place of it that had both of our handwriting on it, though I'd never seen it before. Suddenly Mr. Berty picked the paper off the table. A moment later he placed it back on the table and stormed back to his desk, muttering under his breath.

Edward chuckled. I reached forward to grab the paper myself, wanting to see what it said. It was a list of suggestions and critiques for each of our papers. I blinked.

We parted ways after class and I headed to science, taking my normal seat beside Ashley where a movie called Microcosmos that was a documentary on insect life was turned on and we were forced to watch.

I did my best not to fall asleep outright during the fifty minutes of class. Ashley didn't even try to stay awake, just put her head down on the desk. I couldn't exactly blame her. It was boring.

After that I headed to gym, and the start of our current sport designed specifically to torture me. Badminton.

Coach Clapp handed each of us a racket, ordering us to pair up. I looked at him, desperately begging him not to make me do this. I'm much rather be forced to run laps or go do push ups.

He ignored me.

Mercifully, Mike came over to save me.

"Do you want to be a team?"

"My hero," I said exaggeratedly, but my relief was genuine. He knew me better than most, and knew how to avoid my lack of athletic prowess.

"No problem." He grinned. It was moments like this that I remembered why we'd been friends going on eleven years now. He was always easy going, always friendly, and perhaps most of all, always forgiving.

Unfortunately, it didn't go smoothly. It never did, when Coach Clapp got a barb up his ass that I wasn't doing enough standing in the background the way we both knew I should. After over two years with him, one would he'd think he'd know better, but he was a slower learner than even Tyler, apparently.

I somehow managed to hit myself in the head with my racket and clip Mike's shoulder on the same swing, after I was demanded to participate by the Coach, who watched me like a hawk while I tried.

Coach muffled a laugh with a cough when it happened.

"Sorry Newton." He walked off still muffling laughter.

"Are you okay?" Mike asked, messaging his shoulder.

"I'm fine. Are you?" I rubbed my head where I'd managed to smack myself.

"I think I'll make it." He swung in his arm, making sure he still had full range of motion.

I spent the rest of the class in the back corner of the court, the racket held safely behind my back. Despite being handicapped by me, Mike was still better than the other team; winning three games out of four singlehandedly. He gave me an unearned high five when the coach finally blew the whistle, ending class.

"So," he said as we walked off the court.

"So what?"

"You and Cullen, huh?" he asked, his tone rebellious. And just like that I forgot all my feelings over our long-time friendship.

"Don't go there, Mike," I warned.

He ignored me completely. "I don't like it."

"You aren't my dad or my brother, you have no right to say even one word about it," I snapped.

"He looks at you like... like you're something to eat," he continued, still ignoring me.

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. He had no clue how right he was. He glowered at me as I waved and fled to the locker room.

I dressed quickly, something stronger than butterflies battering recklessly against the walls of my stomach, my argument with Mike already a distant memory. I was wondering if Edward would be waiting, or if I should meet him at his car. What if his family was there? I felt a real wave of terror. Did they know that I knew? Was I supposed to know that they knew that I knew, or not?

By the time I walked out of the gym, I had just about decided to walk straight home without even looking toward the parking lot. But my worries were unnecessary. Edward was waiting, leaning casually against the side of the gym, his breathtaking face untroubled now. As I walked to his side, I felt a peculiar sense of release.

"Hi," I breathed, smiling hugely.

"Hello." His answering smile was brilliant. "How was gym?"

My face fell slightly. "Fine," I lied.

"Really?" He was unconvinced. His eyes shifted their focus slightly, looking over my shoulder as they narrowed. I glanced behind me to see Mike's back as he walked away.

"What?" I demanded.

His eyes slid back to mine, still tight. "Newton's getting on my nerves."

"You weren't listening again?" I was horror-struck. All traces of my sudden good humor gone.

"How's your head?" he asked innocently.

"You're unbelievable!" I turned, stomping away in the general direction of the parking lot, though I hadn't ruled out walking.

He kept up with me easily.

"You were the one that pointed out I'd never seen you in gym – it made me curious." He didn't sound repentant, so I ignored him.

We walked in silence – a furious, embarrassed silence on my part – to his car. But I had to stop a few steps away – a crowd of people, all boys, were surrounding it. Then I realized they weren't surrounding the Volvo, they were actually circled around Rosalie's red convertible, unmistakable lust in their eyes. None of them even looked up as Edward slid between them to open his door. I climbed quickly in the passenger side, also unnoticed.

"Ostentatious," he muttered.

"What kind of car is that?" I asked.

"An M3."

"I don't speak _Car and Driver_."

"It's a BMW." He rolled his eyes, not looking at me, trying to back out without running over the car enthusiasts.

"Big money wasted," I muttered under my breath. Yes, I'd heard of BMWs.

"What was that?" he asked, his lips twitching.

"Absolutely nothing."

"Are you still angry?" he asked as he carefully maneuvered his way out.

"Definitely."

He sighed. "Will you forgive me if I apologize?"

"Maybe.. is you mean it. _And_ if you promise not to do it again." I wasn't accepting his apology if I wasn't getting something out of it.

His eyes were suddenly shrewd. "How about if I mean it, and I agree to let you drive Saturday?"

It was my turn to look shrewd. "Your car?"

"Ummm..." He obviously hadn't expected that. "I thought you weren't going to tell your dad?"

"I'm not."

"Then won't it be pretty weird if your truck is there and you're not there."

"I have lots of friends, Edward. Besides, I'm not trying to keep it a secret from him, I just don't want to tell him specifically."

"Then I'm very sorry I upset you." His eyes burned with sincerity for a protracted moment – playing havoc with the rhythm of my heart – and then turned playful. "And I'll be at you house bright and early Saturday morning."

"After 6 am please. Charlie will have left to go fishing by then," I said promptly.

He just shook his head, obviously having hoped for a different reaction from his words.

"Is it later yet?" I asked significantly.

He frowned. "I suppose it is later."

I kept my expression polite as I waited.

He stopped the car. I looked up, surprised – of course we were already at Charlie's house, parked behind the truck. It was easier to ride with him if I only looked when it was over. When I looked back at him, he was staring at me, measuring me with his eyes.

"And you still want to know why you can't see me hunt?" He seemed solemn, but I thought I saw a trace of humor deep in his eyes.

"Well," I clarified, "I was mostly wondering about your reaction."

"Did I frighten you?" Yes, there was definitely humor there.

"No," I said, a bit too quickly to be believable.

"I apologize for scaring you," he said with a slight smile, but then all evidence of teasing disappeared. "It was just the very thought of you being there... while we hunted." His jaw tightened.

"That would be bad?"

He spoke between clenched teeth. "Extremely."

"Because...?"

He took a deep breath and stared through the windshield at the thick, rolling clouds that seemed to press down, almost within reach.

"When we hunt," he spoke slowly, unwillingly, "We give ourselves over to our senses... govern less with our minds. Especially our sense of smell. If you were anywhere near me when I lost control that way..." He shook his head, still gazing morosely at the heavy clouds.

I kept my expression firmly under control, expecting the swift flash of his eyes to judge my reaction that soon followed. My face gave nothing away.

But our eyes held, and the silence deepened – and changed. Flickers of electricity began to charge the atmosphere as he gazed unrelentingly into my eyes. It wasn't until my head started to swim that I realized I wasn't breathing. When I drew in a breath, breaking the stillness, he closed his eyes.

"Bella, I think you should go inside now." His low voice was rough, his eyes on the clouds again.

"Not yet," I barely mouthed the words, but he still heard them and his eyes flashed to mine.

I leaned over to him, knowing from his show of speed this morning that if he really wanted to, he could easily avoid me. He didn't move. I gave him the briefest of kiss on the corner of his lips then I pulled back, opening the door.

His eyes had widened in shock at my move, but I didn't care. I'd needed to kiss him. Just in case he disappeared like his words kept insinuating. Slowly, I got out of the car before closing the door and slowly heading to my house.

A moment later, I heard the whir of the automatic window rolling down. I looked back to see what he wanted.

"Oh, Bella?" he called after me, his voice once again even.

"Yes?"

"Tomorrow it's my turn."

"Your turn for what?"

He smiled wider, flashing his gleaming white teeth. "Ask the questions."

And then he was gone, the car speeding down the street and disappearing around the corner before I could even collect my thoughts. I smiled as I walked into the house. It was clear he was planning to stay for at least one more day.

That night Edward starred in my dreams, as usual. However the climate of my unconsciousness had changed. It thrilled with the same electricity that had charged the car, and I tossed and turned restlessly.

When I woke up in the morning, my body ached in a way it never had before and I was drenched in a sweat that had nothing to do with exercise and everything to do with the current in the dreams. My dreams had been sensual and sexual in a way I hadn't even been fully aware that I consciously understood before then.

I dressed in a long-sleeve dark gray Metallica tee that was almost worn through in several places, but it covered the bruise that was now a nasty purple on my arm, which was my goal. I also pulled on a pair of faded black jeans that went well with the shirt.

Breakfast was the usual, quiet event I expected. Charlie made fried eggs for himself; I ate my bowl of fruity cereal.

"About this Saturday..." He started as he got up from the table after finishing his food.

"Yes, dad?"

"Are you still driving to Tacoma?"

"I think I'm gonna head down on Sunday instead. The open house isn't on the weekend anyway. It just makes more sense for me to wait."

"Does that mean your going to go to the dance?"

"We both know I don't dance."

"So the boy waiting in the Volvo around the corner didn't ask you to go to the dance?"

I froze for a moment, shocked, before cursing under my breath, "Marshall." It had to be Katie's dad. Had he called before I woke up this morning? Or had he called Charlie last night at work.

"Now don't blame him for looking out for you. I assured him you would tell me if anything serious was going on. Right?" He turned to look at me as he asked.

I crossed my fingers under the table as I responded. "Of course, dad."

"Good. And if he's going to be picking you up like this, then tell him I expect him to park at our property like a proper gentleman and not some strange stalker."

"Yes, dad."

He left then, with a goodbye wave, and I went upstairs to brush my teeth and gather my books. I headed downstairs, going out the door. Edward's car was already there, waiting for me. As I was getting in the car with him, he looked troubled.

"That was an interesting conversation I heard this morning, and an interesting conundrum I was placed in. I couldn't decide if it would be better or worse if I parked in front of the house after he mentioned it."

"I told you once before, there are no secrets in Forks."

He laughed, if there was any humor in it, it was minimal. "I'm actually starting to believe you on that."

"So..." He trailed off, but I could just hear where it was heading.

"What do you want to know?" I grumbled, not sure I was prepared for an interrogation like what I was sure he was planning. A little voice in the back of my mind told me I deserved it for ferreting out all his secrets, I imagined drop kicking that voice.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked, his face grave.

"In reference to what?"

He arched an eyebrow at me.

"Are we talking nature, clothing, decor, or what?"

"Let's go with all three."

"Green, dark, and blue."

"Dark is not a color."

"It is in my book."

"How can dark be a color?"

I pinched my shirt sleeve. "Dark." Touched my pants. "Dark." Then touched his upholstery. "And dark."

He raised one hand in mock surrender. "Okay, I hear you."

"What's your favorite band?"

"I don't really have one specific band that I like, though I guess my favorite music style was rock from the seventies and eighties. Not that that means much, I'll listen to country with Charlie, or jazz or even current hip hop and pop."

"And Debussy too," he murmured.

"More like just Clair De Lune than Debussy in general. I already told you how I knew that song."

"Yes, I remember. And then you laughed about your mom's opinions on you dating. Why was that?"

I shook my head. "Well, as you know, I dated Tyler for quite some time prior to this school year. After I decided to go out on my first date with him, I called mom to share the news. Her only advise to me was to buy condoms. I hadn't even turned fifteen yet."

His face screwed up sort of like he'd bit a sour lemon when I told him this.

I volunteered the next info. "She's my mom, and I love her, but I honestly think that the instinct that some women have towards taking care of their own child, she just never gained. And I'm alright with that."

We'd pulled up in the school parking lot whilst I'd been talking.

We got out of his car in almost the exact same moves and he once again met me at the front of his car. We walked together towards my English class as he kept asking questions.

"What's your favorite gemstone?"

"It's a weird one, but I've always loved Tahitian Pearls."

"Why is that?"

"There are tidal pools over at first beach." I was sure my start had threw him for a loop. "Well, as a young child, I always imagined finding pearls in them. I now know how ridiculous that idea actually was, but I didn't then. Well as I got older and saw my first set of Tahitian Pearls, on my grandmother actually, the tint of the pearls sort of reminded me of the tint in some of the tidal pools. I've loved them ever since."

We'd reached the class door, so I quickly muttered,. "Though topaz is currently trying to become my favorite." I knew I was blushing profusely as I said it, which was why I went into class before he could stop me. I just knew if he had the chance, then he would demand to understand the blush and I really didn't want to explain it to him.

The five classes that I had to take before I got to lunch and to see him again, seemed to pass at a snail's pace, but finally my Spanish class had come to an end, and he met me outside just like he had yesterday.

"Why were you blushing earlier?" he demanded.

"No particular reason," I mumbled, looking away so I wasn't caught by the power of his eyes.

He tried to get it out of me the whole way until we were sitting at our lunch table – after he'd bought far too much food yet again – and he reached forward to grab my chin so he could look me in the eyes. His touch caused splutter wildly.

"Tell me," he commanded.

"It's the color of your eyes currently, I suppose if you asked in a couple weeks, I might say onyx instead." I looked away the instant he released me. I didn't want to know if he thought badly of my words. The same way he seemed to every other time I admitted to caring too much about him.

Thankfully though, he didn't linger. "What kinds of your flowers do you prefer?"

"Poppies, peonies, and hydrangeas." Unfortunately, I blushed again. I sighed and spoke before he could ask. "When I was in third grade, it was an arrangement given to me by my friend, Jacob. I found out later that it was his mom that had put it together. But the three flowers have stuck with me for years."

"Do you like this Jacob?" His eyes flashed as he asked.

"Not in the way you mean, no. He's the closest thing to a little brother I've ever had. We were exceedingly close when we were young, often times almost inseparable, and I know he has a crush on me now, but he's still a little kid in my eyes. I can't see him as anything other than a little brother."

"What about the others here? I know you dated Tyler for two years..."

"It's hard to see any of them as something other than family. All of us grew up together. I met Eric the first day of kindergarten and Tyler a few weeks later – he was sick with the chicken pox when school first started. Ben Cheney and I have played together outside of the Lodge since I was about three years old. Even Mike, I've known since first grade. It's a small community and while some of the people have seemed to grow out of those childhood memories, I can't.

"Every time I look at Austin, all I ever see is the boy that tripped when he was carrying a cup of tomato juice. Rob over there gave me a wedgie when I was in second grade. Then there's D.J. who moved here when I was in third. I remember his first day of school extremely well because he accidentally came into the third grade class room instead of the second grade that he belonged in. Then there's JD there who gave me my first ever glass of beer when I was in sixth. Rot-gut that it was." I made casual motions at each of them as I mentioned them.

I shrugged. "There's so many memories wound up in each of them. It makes the idea of dating any of them pretty much impossible. The only reason I ever dated Tyler was to prove to myself that I could."

"Is that why you're interested in me? Because I'm new here?"

I shook my head. "I can't honestly answer that, Edward. I'm sure it's a part of it, but it's hardly all of it, or even the large majority, more like the smallest minuscule. I'm sure, if we'd known each other our whole lives, I'd still be interested in you. You make my heart flutter, make me feel alive in a way no one else ever has."

We had to head to class before he could ask anything else, and when we got there, Mr. Berty decided to change up the Thursday tradition so we were forced to sit through the first portion of Dr. No instead of work on our paper.

Sitting beside Edward in the dark, caused the same electricity I'd felt in the car yesterday to spark back to life. I closed my eyes, hoping it would help me ignore it, but all it ended up doing was make my imagination run wild as I wondered what it would feel like to have him stroke me in places that no man had ever touched me before. I bit my lip to keep from making a noise that would embarrass me.

Two minutes before class was over I rushed out of class, making a muttered excuse that I had to use the restroom, the truth was though that I wasn't ready to look at Edward after that.

I went immediately to science, managing to be the first one in class about two and a half minutes later.

I didn't see Edward again until after gym and, thankfully, he didn't say anything about what happened in film studies.

Instead he started asking about my trips to see my mom every summer. I'd explained to him how until my grandmother died when I was twelve, I'd spent a month every summer in California. The summer after Marie had passed, I spent in New Mexico. Then the summer after I'd spent it in Phoenix. Finally, the summer before my freshman year, I'd insisted my mom come up to visit me instead. She had, reluctantly, come up to Seattle for two weeks. She'd done the same thing the summer before my sophomore year. Finally I talked to him about this last summer.

"I wasn't surprised when she called up to say she was engaged. In spite of my dad's desires for them to get back together, I've always suspected it would never happen. Still, going down to be her maid of honor and then going with them to Panama was weird. Don't get me wrong, Panama is beautiful, probably one of the most amazing sights I'll ever have the chance of seeing. Even so, having my mother insist I buy things that I wouldn't wear in any situation just makes me realize how truly different I am from her."

His questions kept me talking for hours after we reached my house, and I was tempted to ask him to come in, but in my heart, I knew that if I did, it would have the opposite effect.

Finally, as it started to get dark out, he quieted.

"Are you finished?" I asked in relief.

"Not even close – but your father will be home soon."

"He already knows you're giving me rides," I pointed out, reminding him he'd been caught.

"Still, it's probably time I get back to my family."

"How late is it?" I wondered out loud as I glanced at the clock. I was surprised by the time – he was right in his belief that Charlie would be getting home soon.

"It's twilight," Edward murmured, looking at the western horizon, obscured as it was with clouds. His voice was thoughtful, as if his mind were somewhere far away. I stared at him as he gazed unseeingly out the windshield.

I was still staring when his eyes suddenly shifted back to mine.

"It's the safest time of day for us," he said. Another goodbye laced with another undertone of him leaving forever.

I could see him opening his mouth to say something more, but his words pissed me off. I opened the door, getting out as quickly as I could. "Go to hell, Edward." I slammed the door.

I was so sick of him having one foot out the door and the other halfway there. I stood just beside his car, breathing heavily through my mouth. I would give anything for him to step out of that car, to just meet me halfway, just for one night. And for half a moment, I thought he might. Then he started his car and took off.

A moment later Jacob drove up with Billy in the passenger seat. I could see the trouble brewing in Billy's eyes as they parked.

Edward's lack of commitment was the biggest complication in my life. And my friend's dad was obviously going to be another.

* * *

 **AN:** Reviews make me happy.


	13. Chapter 12 - Balancing

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 12 - Balancing**

Jacob pulled his dad's wheelchair out of the backseat and helped him get into it. I could tell that Billy was staring at me, but I was too busy glaring at Jacob to care.

"Legal driving age is sixteen, Jacob Black. Sixteen." My voice was furious.

Jacob coughed, looking away from me.

"I need to be able to get around, Bells."

I turned my glare on Billy. "Do you know how much legal trouble he could get in? Assuming you two don't get in a wreck."

"I know how to drive, Bella," Jacob muttered. "Even if I'm not quite legal."

I just shook my head then spun on my heels and headed to my door, opening it up and going in. I stopped just inside, looking back at them. "Well. You might as well come in. Since you're here now anyways."

I continued into the kitchen in aggravation, ignoring both of them. Sure, I was being a little bit petty, but I was within my rights.

Because the door was still open, I heard my dad's cruiser pull into the drive. Jacob followed me into the kitchen even as Charlie and Billy were talking in the front room. Given that it was Thursday night, Billy had to have come down to watch a football game.

"If you're in here and not in the living room watching, then you're helping," I threatened Jacob.

He winced slightly. "What do you need me to do?"

"Potatoes are in the cabinet. They need peeled and then cut lengthwise if you want me to make some sort of fries so that way we can have fish and chips. Or cubed if you want mashed potatoes for steak and potatoes. Sort of up to you."

He thought about it for a moment. "I'll cube them."

"Okay." I pulled the steaks out of the fridge, glad I'd bought more than one pack when I'd been at the store last. I also pulled out a container of mushrooms and a couple shallots to use in making a sauce to go over the steaks once they were done.

We worked in silence for several minutes, which reminded me of many days at his place when we'd both been younger.

Jacob finally opened his mouth to talk.

"Are you seriously not going to talk to me?" he demanded.

"Why should I?"

"Oh, come on! I've been driving around in La Push for almost two years now."

"And that decision is between you and your dad. In a town where the max speed limit is twenty-five. But there is a fifteen mile stretch of highway between La Push and Forks that is sixty miles an hour." I spun to look at him. "The same stretch that your mom died on. In case you've forgotten."

He winced. "I can't not drive, Bella."

"Of course not, once you're legal. But you aren't legal. Do you know how much trouble you'd get in if my dad wasn't looking the other way? How much trouble your _dad_ would be in? We aren't talking about some petty theft. It's at the minimum, a class 2 misdemeanor and can be treated as severely as a felony."

"It's not that big of deal," Jacob muttered.

"Jacob." I took a breath, trying to calm down, it didn't work. "You do realize that if you actually get caught, you'll most likely be put in foster care or juvie. Your dad could end up in _jail_ over it."

Jacob, of course, didn't take me seriously. "You said if. Well if means it hasn't happened yet."

I just shook my head.

He grinned widely, knowing I wasn't going to say anymore on it. "So... who was that in the other car?"

"That was Edward Cullen, one of the new kids in school."

His eyes widened. "Ah, so that explains my dad's reaction."

"Yeah, about that..." I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, especially now that I knew that Jacob would someday be part of that story.

Thankfully Jacob beat me to the punch. "You don't have to tell me, Bells. My dad has clearly completely lost his rocker. I couldn't even believe he said what he did to your dad. We both know that if it sounds and smells like bullshit..."

"Then it probably is." I laughed, but I wondered if he heard the almost hysterical note in it.

I went back to work, and after he finished peeling and cutting the potatoes I waved him off to go watch the game with Charlie and Billy.

I brought the food out to each of them once it was done, sitting on the floor in front of Jacob with my own plate. I rested my back against his legs, eating my food as I tried to get into the football game. It was exceedingly boring for me, and I was mentally cursing myself for watching football rather than doing homework. I was finally caught up and it was ridiculous to risk getting behind.

It was after ten at night before the game finally ended and Billy and Jacob left.

. . .

My sleep that night was dreamless. When I woke to the pearl gray morning, my mood was blissful.

"I'm glad to see that you told the boy outside to park out front," Charlie said during breakfast.

I almost spit my mouthful of cereal out, but managed to swallow it down. "Yeah, I told Edward."

"He's a Cullen right?"

I nodded, worried if I spoke my voice would squeak.

He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, causing me to start blushing fiercely. "You could do worse," he finally ruled.

I blinked. Was that... a blessing? I didn't ask the question out loud.

I headed out after he'd left for the day, not even wanting to be out there if he said something to Edward.

As Charlie had stated, he was waiting in his shiny car. His windows were down, and the engine was off.

I didn't hesitate, climbing in the passenger side quickly, the sooner I could see his face. He grinned his crooked smile at me, stopping my breath and my heart. I couldn't imagine how an angel could look any more glorious. There was nothing about him that could be improved upon.

"How did you sleep?" he asked. I wondered if he had any idea how appealing his voice was.

"Fine. How was your night?"

"Pleasant." His smile was amused; I felt like I was missing an inside joke.

"Can I ask what you did?" I asked.

"No." He grinned. "Today is still _mine._ "

He wanted to know more about my relationship with Charlie today, about what it had been like, growing up here for me. I told him everything, going over my earliest memories, about my days spent in La Push. I talked about how I'd gone to my first funeral shortly after I'd turned twelve, but when my own grandmother passed a mere two months later, I didn't go to California for it.

I went over my numerous experiences, from my attempt at learning how to ride a horse to the baking soda volcano that blew up in Charlie's and my face. I explained my first ever attempt at fishing, and my times going hunting. I lingered over the good memories while very carefully not mentioning the worst of the memories.

"So what was your worst accident... or perhaps incident is the better word?" he finally asked. "I know you've had a lot from when Carlisle looked at your charts."

We were in the cafeteria at this point. The day had sped by in the blur that was rapidly becoming routine.

I took a bite of my bagel as I thought of my answer. "Honestly, there are so many times, from when I was thrown off a horse, to getting hypothermia when I fell in the ocean one time. I just really couldn't say one specific one."

"Hmmm."

"Look, I've always been a magnet for trouble, as you would say, been that way my whole life."

His lips pressed together into a hard line.

He changed the subject suddenly. "And you've never been kissed?"

"Aside from by Jacob under the mistletoe when I was nine?" I shook my head. "Never."

"I should have let you drive yourself today," he announced, changing the subject yet again.

"Why?" I demanded.

"I'm leaving with Alice after lunch."

"Oh." I blinked, bewildered and disappointed. "That's okay, it's not that far of a walk."

He frowned at me impatiently. "I'm not going to make you walk home. We'll go get your truck and leave it here for you."

"I don't have my key with me," I sighed. "I really don't mind walking." I'd done it dozens of times in the past. What I minded was losing my time with him.

He shook his head. "Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition – unless you're afraid someone might steal it." He laughed at the thought.

"All right," I agreed, pursing my lips. I was pretty sure my key was in the pocket of a pair of jeans I wore Wednesday, under a pile of clothes in my dirty laundry pile. Even if he broke into my house, or whatever he was planning, he'd never find it. He seemed to feel the challenge in my consent. He smirked, overconfident.

"So where are you going?" I asked as casually as I could manage.

"Hunting," he answered grimly. "If I'm going to be alone with you tomorrow, I'm going to take whatever precautions I can." His face grew morose... and pleading. "You can always cancel, you know."

I looked down, afraid of the persuasive power of his eyes. I refused to be convinced to fear him, no matter how real the danger might be. _It doesn't matter,_ I repeated in my head.

"No," I whispered, glancing back at his face. "I can't."

"Perhaps you're right," he murmured bleakly. His eyes seemed to darken in color as I watched.

I changed the subject. "What time will I see you tomorrow?" I asked, already depressed by the thought of him leaving now.

"That depends... it's a Saturday, don't you want to sleep in?" he offered.

"No, I'm a morning person."

"The same time as usual, then," he decided. "And you're seriously not going to tell Charlie that you're spending the day with me?"

"Did you not hear him today? He just about gave us our blessing. I am not pressing my luck with that."

His voice turned sharp. "And if you don't come home, what will he think?"

"I have no idea," I answered coolly. "He knows I've been meaning to do the laundry. Maybe he'll think I fell in the washer."

He scowled at me and I scowled back. His anger was much more impressive than mine.

"What are you hunting tonight?" I asked when I was sure I had lost the glowering contest.

"Whatever we find in the park. We aren't going far." He seemed bemused by my casual reference to his secret realities.

"Why are you going with Alice?" I wondered.

"Alice is the most... supportive." He frowned as he spoke.

"And the others?" I asked. "What are they?"

His brow puckered for a brief moment. "Incredulous, for the most part."

I peeked quickly behind me at his family. They sat staring off in different directions, exactly the same as the first time I'd seen them. Only now they were four; their beautiful, bronze-haired brother sat across from me, his golden eyes troubled.

"They don't like me," I guessed.

"That's not it," he disagreed, but his eyes were too innocuous. "They don't understand why I can't leave you alone."

I grimaced. "Neither can I, for that matter."

Edward shook his head slowly, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling before he met my gaze again. "I told you – you don't see yourself clearly at all. You're not like anyone I've ever known. You fascinate me."

I glared at him.

He smiled back. "Having the advantages I do," he murmured, touching his forehead discreetly, "I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you... you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise."

I looked away, my eyes wandering back to his family, embarrassed and dissatisfied. His words

made me feel like a science experiment. I wanted to laugh at myself for expecting anything else.

"That part is easy enough to explain," he continued. I felt his eyes on my face but I couldn't look at him yet, afraid he might read the chagrin in my eyes. "But there's more... and it's not so easy to put into words –"

I was still staring at the Cullens while he spoke. Suddenly Rosalie, his blonde and breathtaking sister, turned to look at me. No, not to look – to glare, with dark, cold eyes. I wanted to look away, but her gaze held me until Edward broke off mid-sentence and made an angry noise under his breath. It sounded almost like a hiss.

Rosalie turned her head, and I was relieved to be free. I looked back at Edward – and I knew he could see the confusion and fear that widened my eyes.

His face was tight as he explained. "I'm sorry about that. She's just worried. You see... it's dangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly..." He looked down.

"If?"

"If this ends... badly." He dropped his head into his hands.

His anguish was plain and I yearned to comfort him. My hand reached toward him involuntarily; and I wrapped it gently around one of his arms. I realized slowly that his words should frighten me. I waited for that fear to come, but all I could seem to feel was an ache for his pain.

And frustration – frustration that Rosalie had interrupted whatever he was about to say. I didn't know how to bring it up again. He still had his head in his hands.

I tried to speak in a normal voice. "And you have to leave now?"

"Yes." He raised his face; it was serious for a moment, and then his mood shifted and he smiled. "It's probably for the best. We still have more of that wretched movie and I don't think making a scene in class would be the best for either of us."

I let go of his arm. It was good to know that he'd felt the strange current between the two of us as well. I wanted to ask him what he thought it was, but didn't know where to start with a question like that.

I started. Alice – her short, inky hair in a halo of spiky disarray around her exquisite, elfin face – was suddenly standing behind his shoulder. Her slight frame was willowy, graceful even in absolute stillness.

He greeted her without looking away from me. "Alice."

"Edward," she answered, her high soprano voice almost as attractive as his.

"Alice, Bella – Bella, Alice," he introduced us, gesturing casually with his hand, a wry smile on his face.

"Hello, Bella." Her brilliant obsidian eyes were unreadable, but her smile was friendly. "It's nice to finally meet you."

The statement sounded loaded in a way I didn't understand. Edward flashed a dark look at her.

"Hi, Alice," I murmured softly.

"Are you ready?" she asked him.

His voice was aloof. "Nearly. I'll meet you at the car."

She left without another word; her walk was so fluid, so sinuous that I felt a sharp pang of jealousy.

"Should I say 'have fun,' or is that the wrong sentiment?" I asked, turning back to him.

"No, 'have fun' works as well as anything." He grinned.

"Have fun, then." I worked to sound wholehearted. Of course, I didn't fool him.

"I'll try." He still grinned. "And you try to be safe, please."

"Safe in Forks – what a challenge."

"For you it _is_ a challenge." His jaw hardened. "Promise."

"I promise to try to be safe," I recited. "I'll do the laundry tonight – that ought to be fraught with peril."

"Don't fall in," he mocked.

"I'll do my best."

He stood then, and I rose, too.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I sighed.

"It seems like a long time to you, doesn't it?" he mused.

I nodded glumly.

"I'll be there in the morning," he promised, smiling his crooked smile. He reached across the table to touch my face, lightly brushing his fingers along my cheekbone. My heart stuttered. Then he turned and walked away. I stared after him until he was gone.

I was sorely tempted to ditch the rest of the day, at the very least Gym, but a warning instinct stopped me. I knew that if I disappeared now, Mike and others would assume I was with Edward. And Edward was worried about the time we'd spent together publicly... if things went wrong. I refused to dwell on the last thought, concentrating instead on making things safer for him.

I intuitively knew – and suspected he did, too – that tomorrow would be pivotal. Our relationship couldn't continue to balance, as it did, with him having one foot out the door, and the other balancing on a deadly cliff. Things were either going to have to end in some way, or he was going to have to meet me somewhere in the middle.

My decision was made though. I knew I'd go with him, even if it did end – bitterly – in either a physical form, or an emotional one. I couldn't imagine walking away from him, the pain was too real. It was an impossibility.

I went to class, feeling dutiful. I couldn't honestly say what happened in film studies or biology; my mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of tomorrow. In Gym, Mike was speaking to me again.

"Are you going to the dance with Cullen?" he asked, sulkily.

"No, I'm not going to the dance at all."

"What are you doing, then?" he asked, too interested.

My natural urge was to tell him to butt out. Instead, I lied brightly.

"Laundry, and then I have to study for the Trig test or I'm going to fail."

"Is Cullen helping you study?"

" _Edward,_ " I emphasized, "is not going to help me study. He's gone away somewhere for the weekend." The lies came more naturally than usual, I noted with surprise. "Besides, it's not like we're even in the same class," I added.

He muttered something under his breath about studying and euphemism.

"What was that?" I glared at him severely.

"Oh, nothing." He perked up. "You know, you could come to the dance with our group anyway – that would be cool. We'd all dance with you," he promised.

The mental image of Jessica's face made my tone sharper than necessary.

"I'm _not_ going to the dance, Mike, okay?"

"Fine." He sulked again. "I was just offering."

When the school day had finally ended, I walked to the parking lot without enthusiasm. I did not especially want to walk home, but I couldn't see how he would have retrieved my truck. Then again, I was starting to believe that nothing was impossible for him. The latter instinct proved correct – my truck sat in the same space he'd parked his Volvo in this morning. I shook my head, incredulous, as I opened the unlocked door and saw the key in the ignition.

There was a piece of white paper folded on my seat. I got in and closed the door before I unfolded it. Two words were written in his elegant script.

 _Be safe._

The sound of the truck roaring to life startled me. I laughed at myself.

When I got home, the handle of the door was locked, the dead bolt unlocked, just as I'd left it this morning. Inside, I went straight to my laundry pile. It looked just the same as I'd left it, too. I dug for my jeans and, after finding them, checked the pockets. Empty. Maybe I'd hung my key up after all, I thought, shaking my head.

Following the same instinct that had prompted me to lie to Mike, I called Jessica on the pretense of wishing her luck at the dance. When she offered the same wish for my weekend away with Edward, I told her about the cancellation. She was more disappointed than strictly necessary. I said goodbye quickly after that.

That night, as Charlie and I were eating the lasagna I'd made, Charlie asked about my trip I was planning.

"So you're still heading to Tacoma on Sunday?"

"Yes."

"And how many days will you be there?"

"I was planning to stay through Tuesday and either come back that evening, or come back Wednesday morning. I thought I'd get some groceries we don't normally get at our store while I was there. We are still going to La Push for Thanksgiving, right?"

It had been our annual tradition for more years than I could remember. Every year we spent it with the Blacks, Clearwaters and Atearas. Sam had joined in the past couple of years, and I wouldn't be surprised to see Embry Call and his mom this year.

"Of course."

"Excellent. I'll see about picking up a large ham while I'm in Tacoma then." Forks grocery store constituted six pounds pressed loafs as being actual ham, or occasionally, usually right before Christmas, they'd get half hams weighing about eight to nine pounds.

After dinner, I started on the laundry, keeping my hands busy. Unfortunately it was the kind of job that only kept hands busy. My mind definitely had too much free time, and it was getting out of control. I fluctuated between anticipation so intense that it was very nearly pain, and an insidious fear that picked at my resolve. I had to keep reminding myself that I'd made my choice, and I wasn't going back on it. I pulled his note out of my pocket much more often than necessary to absorb the two small words he'd written. He wants me to be safe, I told myself again and again. I would just hold on to the faith that, in the end, that desire would win out over the others. And what was my other choice – to cut him out of my life? Intolerable.

But a tiny voice in the back of my mind worried, wondering if it would hurt _very_ much... if it ended badly, as he'd put it.

I already knew the pain would be worse than death if it ended the other way his words kept on insinuating that he wanted it to.

I was relieved when it was late enough to be acceptable for bedtime. I knew I was far too stressed to sleep, so I did something I'd never done before. I deliberately took unnecessary cold medicine – the kind that knocked me out for a good eight hours. I normally wouldn't condone that type of behavior in myself, but tomorrow would be complicated enough without me being loopy from sleep deprivation on top of everything else. While I waited for the drugs to kick in, I dried my clean hair till it was impeccably straight, and fussed over what I would wear tomorrow.

With everything ready for the morning, I laid down in my bed. I felt hyper; I couldn't stop twitching. I got up and finally opened the suitcase with all the stuff my mom bought me in Panama. I slowly started to put it all way, trying to focus on the task in order to relax me. There was over a dozen different sets of bikini tops and bottoms, and almost twice as many things of lingerie. I shook my head.

At the bottom of the suitcase was a vibrator, still in it's discreet white box. I'd almost forgot that my mom had bought that for me amidst everything else. At the time that she gave it to me, I'd assured her that I had no need for it, but she'd insisted. I was actually starting to be glad about that.

It was as I was deciding where to hide it, that the cold pills took effect, so I returned to bed, gladly sinking into unconsciousness.

. . .

I woke early, having slept soundly and dreamlessly thanks to my gratuitous drug use. Though I was well rested, I slipped right back into the same hectic frenzy from the night before. I dressed in a rush, smoothing my collar against my neck, fidgeting with the tan sweater till it hung right over my jeans. I sneaked a swift look out the window to see that Charlie was already gone. A thin, cottony layer of clouds veiled the sky. They didn't look very lasting.

I ate breakfast without tasting the food, hurrying to clean up when I was done. I peeked out the window again, but nothing had changed. I had just finished brushing my teeth and was heading back downstairs when a quiet knock sent my heart thudding against my rib cage.

I flew to the door; I had a little trouble with the simple dead bolt, but I yanked the door open at last, and there he was. All the agitation dissolved as soon as I looked at his face, calm taking its place. I breathed a sigh of relief – yesterday's fears seemed very foolish with him here.

He wasn't smiling at first – his face was somber. But then his expression lightened as he looked me over, and he laughed.

"Good morning," he chuckled.

"What's wrong?" I glanced down to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything important, like pants, as that would be mortifying. I remembered the cotton undies with little pink hearts I'd put on.

"We match." He laughed again. I realized he had a long, light tan sweater on, with a white collar showing underneath, and blue jeans. I laughed with him, hiding a secret twinge of regret – why did he have to look like a runway model when I couldn't?

I locked the door behind me while he walked to his Volvo. He got into the passenger seat with a martyred expression that was easy to understand.

"We made a deal," I reminded him smugly, getting into the driver's seat.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Put your seat belt on – I'm nervous already."

I gave him a dirty look as I complied.

"Where to?" I repeated with a sigh.

"Take the one-oh-one north," he ordered.

It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while feeling his gaze on my face. I compensated by driving more carefully than usual through the still-sleeping town.

"Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?"

"Excuse me for actually enjoying the feel of this vehicle being driven at a sensible speed," I retorted.

We were soon out of the town limits, despite his negativity. Thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks replaced the lawns and houses.

"Turn right on the one-ten," he instructed just as I was about to ask. I obeyed silently.

"Now we drive until the pavement ends."

I could hear a smile in his voice, but I was too afraid of driving off the road to look over and be sure.

"And what's there, at the pavement's end?" I wondered.

"A trail."

"We're hiking?" Thank goodness I'd worn tennis shoes.

"Is that a problem?" He sounded as if he'd expected as much.

"No." I tried to make the lie sound confident. But if he thought my driving was slow...

"Don't worry, it's only five miles or so, and we're in no hurry."

Five miles. I didn't answer, so that he wouldn't hear my voice crack in panic. Five miles of treacherous roots and loose stones, trying to twist my ankles or otherwise incapacitate me. This was going to be humiliating.

We drove in silence for a while as I contemplated the coming horror.

"What are you thinking?" he asked impatiently after a few moments.

I lied again. "Just wondering where we're going."

"It's a place I like to go when the weather is nice." We both glanced out the windows at the thinning clouds after he spoke.

"It is supposed to be warm today."

"And did you change your mind and tell Charlie what you were up to?" he asked.

"Nope." I had sent an email to my mom on Wednesday night, before I'd realized it would be better to keep everything hush hush, to protect him.

"But Jessica thinks we're going to Tacoma together?" He seemed cheered by the idea.

"No, I told her you canceled on me – which is true."

"No one knows you're with me?" Angrily, now.

"I emailed my mom... and I assume you told Alice."

"That's very helpful, Bella," he snapped.

I ignored him. Sure my mother would assume I ran off with him if I didn't come home, but at least that would protect him.

"Are you suicidal, Bella?" he demanded when I didn't respond.

"You said it might cause trouble for you... us being together publicly," I reminded him.

"So you're worried about the trouble it might cause _me_ _–_ if _you_ don't come _home_?" His voice was still angry, and bitingly sarcastic.

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road.

He muttered something under his breath, speaking so quickly that I couldn't understand.

We were silent for the rest of the drive. I could feel the waves of infuriated disapproval rolling off of him, and I could think of nothing to say.

And then the road ended, constricting to a thin foot trail with a small wooden marker. I parked on the narrow shoulder and stepped out, afraid because he was angry with me and I didn't have driving as an excuse not to look at him.

It had been years, but I'd been to this spot before, following the trail with Sarah, the twins and Jacob. I couldn't remember anything especially amazing on the trail

It was warm now, warmer than was normal for this time of year, almost muggy under the clouds. I pulled off my sweater and knotted it around my waist, glad that I'd worn the light, sleeveless shirt – especially if I had five miles of hiking ahead of me.

I heard his door slam, and looked over to see that he'd removed his sweater, too. He was facing away from me, into the unbroken forest beside my truck.

"This way," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me, eyes still annoyed. He started into the dark forest.

"The trail?" Panic was clear in my voice as I hurried around the truck to catch up to him.

"I said there was a trail at the end of the road, not that we were taking it."

"No trail?" I asked desperately. I did not hike very well without a well made path to help.

"I won't let you get lost." He turned then, with a mocking smile, and I stifled a gasp. His white shirt was sleeveless, and he wore it unbuttoned, so that the smooth white skin of his throat flowed uninterrupted over the marble contours of his chest, his perfect musculature no longer merely hinted at behind concealing clothes. He was too perfect, I realized with a piercing stab of despair. There was no way this godlike creature could be meant for me.

I had a sickening feeling that today was definitely going to be an ending, and not the quick one that he was worried about.

He stared at me, bewildered by my tortured expression.

"Do you want to go home?" he said quietly, a different pain than mine saturating his voice.

"No." I walked forward till I was close beside him, anxious not to waste one second of whatever time I might still have with him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"I'm not a good hiker," I answered dully. "You'll have to be very patient."

"I can be patient – if I make a great effort." He smiled, holding my glance, trying to lift me out of my sudden, unexplained dejection.

I tried to smile back, but the smile was unconvincing. He scrutinized my face.

"I'll take you home," he promised. I couldn't tell if the promise was unconditional, or restricted to an immediate departure. I knew he thought it was fear that upset me, and I was grateful again that I was the one person whose mind he couldn't hear.

Of course, it was fear, but not the kind he was thinking of.

"If you want me to hack five miles through the jungle before sundown, you'd better start leading the way," I said acidly. He frowned at me, struggling to understand my tone and expression.

He gave up after a moment and led the way into the forest.

It wasn't as hard as I had feared. The way was mostly flat, and he held the damp ferns and webs of moss aside for me. When his straight path took us over fallen trees or boulders, he would help me, lifting me by the elbow, and then releasing me instantly when I was clear. His cold touch on my skin never failed to make my heart thud erratically. Twice, when that happened, I caught a look on his face that made me sure he could somehow hear it.

I tried to keep my eyes away from his perfection as much as possible, but I slipped often. Each time, his beauty pierced me through with sadness.

For the most part, we walked in silence. Occasionally he would ask a random question that he hadn't gotten to in the past two days of interrogation. He asked about my birthdays, my grade school teachers, my childhood pets – and I had to talk about the pet tarantula I'd had for about five years until I was ten and went through a rebellious period, deciding that it deserved freedom. At the time I hadn't realized it probably wouldn't survive in this environment. He laughed at that, louder than I was used to – bell-like echoes bouncing back to us from the empty woods. I also talked about the fox that Katie and I took stuff to.

The hike took me most of the morning, but he never showed any sign of impatience. The forest spread out around us in a boundless labyrinth of ancient trees, and I began to be nervous that we would never find our way out again. He was perfectly at ease, comfortable in the massive forest, never seeming to feel any doubt about our direction.

After several hours, the light that filtered through the canopy transformed, the murky olive tone shifting to a brighter jade. The day had turned sunny, just as he'd foretold. For the first time since we'd entered the woods, I felt a thrill of excitement – which quickly turned to impatience.

"Are we there yet?" I teased, pretending to scowl.

"Nearly." He smiled at the change in my mood. "Do you see the brightness ahead?"

I peered into the thick forest. "Um, should I?"

He smirked. "Maybe it's a bit soon for _your_ eyes."

"Time to visit the optometrist," I muttered. His smirk grew more pronounced.

But then, after another hundred yards, I could definitely see a lightening in the trees ahead, a glow that was yellow instead of green. I picked up the pace, my eagerness growing with every step. He let me lead now, following noiselessly.

I reached the edge of the pool of light and stepped through the last fringe of ferns into the loveliest place I had ever seen. The meadow was small, perfectly round, and filled with wildflowers – violet, yellow, and soft white. Somewhere nearby, I could hear the bubbling music of a stream. The sun was directly overhead, filling the circle with a haze of buttery sunshine. I walked slowly, awestruck, through the soft grass, swaying flowers, and warm, gilded air. I halfway turned, wanting to share this with him, but he wasn't behind me where I thought he'd be. I spun around, searching for him with sudden alarm. Finally I spotted him, still under the dense shade of the canopy at the edge of the hollow, watching me with cautious eyes. Only then did I remember what the beauty of the meadow had driven from my mind – the enigma of Edward and the sun, which he'd promised to illustrate for me today.

I took a step back toward him, my eyes alight with curiosity. His eyes were wary, reluctant. I smiled encouragingly and beckoned to him with my hand, taking another step back to him. He held up a hand in warning, and I hesitated, rocking back onto my heels.

Edward seemed to take a deep breath, and then he stepped out into the bright glow of the midday sun.


	14. Chapter 13 - Confessions

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **AN:** I admit, there weren't very many changes made to this chapter, just a few minute ones. This one... essentially covered everything on it's own.

 **Chapter 13 - Confessions**

Edward in the sunlight was shocking. I couldn't get used to it, though I'd been staring at him all afternoon. His skin, white despite the faint flush from yesterday's hunting trip, literally sparkled, like thousands of tiny diamonds were embedded in the surface. He lay perfectly still in the grass, his shirt open over his sculpted, incandescent chest, his scintillating arms bare. His glistening, pale lavender lids were shut, though of course he didn't sleep. A perfect statue, carved in some unknown stone, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal.

Now and then, his lips would move, so fast it looked like they were trembling. But, when I asked, he told me he was singing to himself; it was too low for me to hear.

I enjoyed the sun, too. I would have liked to lie back, as he did, and let the sun warm my face. But I stayed curled up, my chin resting on my knees, unwilling to take my eyes off him. The wind was gentle; it tangled my hair and ruffled the grass that swayed around his motionless form.

The meadow, so spectacular to me at first, paled next to his magnificence.

Hesitantly, always afraid, even now, that he would disappear like a mirage, too beautiful to be real... I reached out one finger and stroked the back of his shimmering hand, where it lay within my reach. I marveled again at the perfect texture, satin smooth, cool as stone. When I looked up again, his eyes were open, watching me. Butterscotch today, lighter, warmer after hunting. His quick smile turned up the corners of his flawless lips.

"I don't scare you?" he asked playfully, but I could hear the real curiosity in his soft voice.

"No more than usual."

He smiled wider; his teeth flashed in the sun.

I inched closer, stretched out my whole hand now to trace the contours of his forearm with my fingertips. I saw that my fingers trembled, and knew it wouldn't escape his notice.

"Do you mind?" I asked, for he had closed his eyes again.

"No," he said without opening his eyes. "You can't imagine how that feels." He sighed.

I lightly trailed my hand over the perfect muscles of his arm, followed the faint pattern of bluish veins inside the crease at his elbow. With my other hand, I reached to turn his hand over. Realizing what I wished, he flipped his palm up in one of those blindingly fast, disconcerting movements of his. It startled me; my fingers froze on his arm for a brief second.

"Sorry," he murmured. I looked up in time to see his golden eyes close again. "It's too easy to be

myself with you."

I lifted his hand, turning it this way and that as I watched the sun glitter on his palm. I held it closer to my face, trying to see the hidden facets in his skin.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he whispered. I looked to see his eyes watching me, suddenly intent. "It's still so strange for me, not knowing."

"You know, the rest of us feel that way all the time."

"It's a hard life." Did I imagine the hint of regret in his tone? "But you didn't tell me."

"I _was_ wishing I could know what you were thinking..." I hesitated.

"And?"

"I was wishing that I could believe that you were real. And I was wishing that I wasn't afraid."

"I don't want you to be afraid." His voice was just a soft murmur. I heard what he couldn't truthfully say, that I didn't need to be afraid, that there was nothing to fear.

"Well, that's not exactly the fear I meant, though that's certainly something to think about."

So quickly that I missed his movement, he was half sitting, propped up on his right arm, his left palm still in my hands. His angel's face was only a few inches from mine. I might have – probably should have – flinched away from his unexpected closeness, but I was unable to move. His golden eyes mesmerized me.

"What are you afraid of, then?" he whispered intently.

But I couldn't answer. I smelled his cool breath in my face, and it was the sweetest, most intoxicating ambrosia I'd ever smelled. It was unlike anything else. Instinctively, unthinkingly, I leaned in, inhaling, yearning to put my lips on his and truly kiss him in a way I'd never kissed another man.

And he was gone, his hand ripped from mine. In the time it took my eyes to focus, he was twenty feet away, standing at the edge of the small meadow, in the deep shade of a huge fir tree. He stared at me, his eyes dark in the shadows, his expression unreadable.

I could feel the hurt, shock, and fear on my face. My empty hands stung.

"I'm... sorry... Edward," I whispered. I knew he could hear.

"Give me a moment," he called, just loud enough for my less sensitive ears. I sat very still.

After ten incredibly long seconds, he walked back, slowly for him. He stopped, still several feet away, and sank gracefully to the ground, crossing his legs. His eyes never left mine. He took two deep breaths, and then smiled in apology.

"I am so very sorry." He hesitated. "Would you understand what I meant if I said I was only human?"

I nodded once, not quite able to smile at his joke. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins as the very real danger I was in sank deep into my pores. He could smell that from where he sat. His smile turned mocking.

"I'm the world's best predator, aren't I? Everything about me invites you in – my voice, my face, even my _smell._ As if I need any of that!" Unexpectedly, he was on his feet, bounding away, instantly out of sight, only to appear beneath the same tree as before, having circled the meadow in half a second.

"As if you could outrun me," he laughed bitterly.

He reached up with one hand and, with a deafening crack, effortlessly ripped a two-foot-thick branch from the trunk of the spruce. He balanced it in that hand for a moment, and then threw it with blinding speed, shattering it against another huge tree, which shook and trembled at the blow.

And he was in front of me again, standing two feet away, still as a stone.

"As if you could fight me off," he said gently.

I sat without moving, more frightened of him than I had ever been. I'd never seen him so completely freed of that carefully cultivated facade. He'd never been less human... or more beautiful. Face ashen, eyes wide, I sat like a bird locked in the eyes of a snake.

His lovely eyes seemed to glow with rash excitement. Then, as the seconds passed, they dimmed. His expression slowly folded into a mask of ancient sadness.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured, his velvet voice unintentionally seductive. "I promise..." He hesitated. "I _swear_ not to hurt you." He seemed more concerned with convincing himself than me.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered again as he stepped closer, with exaggerated slowness. He sat sinuously, with deliberately unhurried movements, till our faces were on the same level, just a foot apart.

"Please forgive me," he said formally. "I _can_ control myself. You caught me off guard. But I'm on my best behavior now."

He waited, but I still couldn't speak.

"I'm not thirsty today, honestly." He winked.

At that I had to laugh, though the sound was shaky and breathless.

"Are you all right?" he asked tenderly, reaching out slowly, carefully, to place his marble hand back in mine.

I looked at his smooth, cold hand, and then at his eyes. They were soft, repentant. I looked back at his hand, and then deliberately returned to tracing the lines in his hand with my fingertip. I looked up and smiled timidly.

His answering smile was dazzling.

"So where were we, before I behaved so rudely?" he asked in the gentle cadences of an earlier century.

"I honestly can't remember."

He smiled, but his face was ashamed. "I think we were talking about why you were afraid, besides the obvious reason."

"Oh, right."

"Well?"

I looked down at his hand and doodled aimlessly across his smooth, iridescent palm. The seconds ticked by. In all honesty, I wasn't sure I wanted to admit my fear.

"How easily frustrated I am," he sighed. I looked into his eyes, abruptly grasping that this was every bit as new to him as it was to me. As many years of unfathomable experience as he had, this was hard for him, too. I took courage from that thought.

"I was afraid... because, for, well, obvious reasons, I can't _stay_ with you. And I'm afraid that I'd like to stay with you, much more than I should." I looked down at his hands as I spoke. I wondered if he could hear the admittance that I'd be happy to spend an eternity with him?

"Yes," he agreed slowly. "That is something to be afraid of, indeed. Wanting to be with me. That's really not in your best interest."

I flinched, frowning. The longer we spent together, the more inevitable it seemed that he was going to say goodbye to me, and I still wasn't certain how I was going to survive that pain. I still had today though and I was desperate to take advantage of it.

"I should have left long ago," he sighed. "I should leave now. But I don't know if I can."

"I don't want you to leave," I mumbled pathetically, still staring down.

"Which is exactly why I should. But don't worry. I'm essentially a selfish creature. I crave your company too much to do what I should."

"I'm glad."

"Don't be!" He withdrew his hand, more gently this time; his voice was harsher than usual. Harsh for him, still more beautiful than any human voice. It was hard to keep up – his sudden mood changes left me always a step behind, dazed.

"It's not only your company I crave! Never forget _that._ Never forget I am more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else." He stopped, and I looked to see him gazing unseeingly into the forest.

I thought for a moment.

"I don't think I understand exactly what you mean – by that last part anyway," I said.

He looked back at me and smiled, his mood shifting yet again.

"How do I explain?" he mused. "And without frightening you again... hmmmm." Without seeming to think about it, he placed his hand back in mine; I held it tightly in both of mine. He looked at our hands.

"That's amazingly pleasant, the warmth." He sighed.

A moment passed as he assembled his thoughts.

"You know how everyone enjoys different flavors?" he began. "Some people love chocolate ice cream, others prefer strawberry?"

I nodded.

"Sorry about the food analogy – I couldn't think of another way to explain."

I smiled. He smiled ruefully back.

"You see, every person smells different, has a different essence. If you locked an alcoholic in a room full of stale beer, he'd gladly drink it. But he could resist, if he wished to, if he were a recovering alcoholic. Now let's say you placed in that room a glass of hundred-year-old brandy, the rarest, finest cognac – and filled the room with its warm aroma – how do you think he would fare then?"

"I'd rather it be scotch," I quipped, genuinely trying to understand him, but unable to help but add the levity.

He smiled. "Scotch then."

"So what you're saying is I'm your scotch?" I asked.

He smiled swiftly, seeming to appreciate my effort. "Yes, you are _exactly_ my scotch."

"Does that happen often?" I asked.

He looked across the treetops, thinking through his response.

"I spoke to my brothers about it." He still stared into the distance. "To Jasper, every one of you is much the same. He's the most recent to join our family. It's a struggle for him to abstain at all. He hasn't had time to grow sensitive to the differences in smell, in flavor." He glanced swiftly at me, his expression apologetic.

"Sorry," he said.

"I don't mind. Please don't worry about offending me, or frightening me, or whichever. That's the way you think. I can understand, or I can try to at least. Just explain however you can."

He took a deep breath and gazed at the sky again.

"So Jasper wasn't sure if he'd ever come across someone who was as –" he hesitated, looking for the right word "– _appealing_ as you are to me. Which makes me think not. Emmett has been on the wagon longer, so to speak, and he understood what I meant. He says twice, for him, once stronger than the other."

"And for you?"

"Never."

The word hung there for a moment in the warm breeze.

"What did Emmett do?" I asked to break the silence.

It was the wrong question to ask. His face grew dark, his hand clenched into a fist inside mine. He looked away. I waited, but it was clear he wasn't going to answer.

"I guess I know," I finally said.

He lifted his eyes; his expression was wistful, pleading.

"What are you asking? My permission?" My voice was sharper than I'd intended. I tried to make my tone kinder – after all, I'd already accepted the possibility of that very inevitability. "I mean, is there no hope, then?"

"No, no!" He was instantly contrite. "Of course there's hope! I mean, of course I won't..." He left the sentence hanging. His eyes burned into mine. "It's different for us. Emmett... these were strangers he happened across. It was a long time ago, and he wasn't as... practiced, as careful, as he is now."

He fell silent and watched me intently as I thought it through.

"So if we'd met... oh, in a dark alley or something..." I trailed off.

"It took everything I had not to jump up in the middle of that class full of children and –" He stopped abruptly, looking away. "When you walked past me, I could have ruined everything Carlisle has built for us, right then and there. If I hadn't been denying my thirst for the last, well, too many years, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself." He paused, scowling at the trees.

He glanced at me grimly, both of us remembering. "You must have thought I was possessed."

"I couldn't understand why. How you could hate me so quickly..."

"To me, it was like you were some kind of demon, summoned straight from my own personal hell to ruin me. The fragrance coming off your skin... I thought it would make me deranged that first day. In that one hour, I thought of a hundred different ways to lure you from the room with me, to get you alone. And I fought them each back, thinking of my family, what I could do to them. I had to run out, to get away before I could speak the words that would make you follow..."

He looked up then at my staggered expression as I tried to absorb his bitter memories. His golden eyes scorched from under his lashes, hypnotic and deadly.

"I would have come." I spoke with certainty.

"Yes," he agreed.

He frowned down at my hands, releasing me from the force of his stare. "And then, as I tried to rearrange my schedule in a pointless attempt to avoid you, you were there – in that close, warm little

room, the scent was maddening. I so very nearly took you then. There was only one other frail human

there – so easily dealt with."

I shivered in the warm sun, seeing my memories anew through his eyes, only now grasping the danger. Poor Mrs. Cope; I shivered again at how close I'd come to being inadvertently responsible for her death.

"But I resisted. I don't know how. I forced myself _not_ to wait for you, _not_ to follow you from the school. It was easier outside, when I couldn't smell you anymore, to think clearly, to make the right decision. I left the others near home – I was too ashamed to tell them how weak I was, they only knew something was very wrong – and then I went straight to Carlisle, at the hospital, to tell him I was leaving."

I stared in surprise.

"I traded cars with him – he had a full tank of gas and I didn't want to stop. I didn't dare to go home, to face Esme. She wouldn't have let me go without a scene. She would have tried to convince me that it wasn't necessary..."

I remembered that, seeing Edward get in his dad's Mercedes outside of the hospital. He must not have realized just how close I was then.

"By the next morning I was in Alaska." He sounded ashamed, as if admitting a great cowardice. "I spent two days there, with some old acquaintances... but I was homesick. I hated knowing I'd upset Esme, and the rest of them, my adopted family. In the pure air of the mountains it was hard to believe you were so irresistible. I convinced myself it was weak to run away. I'd dealt with temptation before, not of this magnitude, not even close, but I was strong. Who were you, an insignificant little girl –" he grinned suddenly "– to chase me from the place I wanted to be? So I came back..." He stared off into space.

I couldn't speak.

"I took precautions, hunting, feeding more than usual before seeing you again. I was sure that I was strong enough to treat you like any other human. I was arrogant about it.

"It was unquestionably a complication that I couldn't simply read your thoughts to know what your reaction was to me. I wasn't used to having to go to such circuitous measures, listening to your words in Jessica's mind... her mind isn't very original, and it was annoying to have to stoop to that. And then I couldn't know if you really meant what you said. It was all extremely irritating." He frowned at the memory.

"I wanted you to forget my behavior that first day, if possible, so I tried to talk with you like I would with any person. I was eager actually, hoping to decipher some of your thoughts. But you were too interesting, I found myself caught up in your expressions... and every now and then you would stir the air with your hand or your hair, and the scent would stun me again...

"Of course, then you were nearly crushed to death in front of my eyes. Later I thought of a perfectly good excuse for why I acted at that moment – because if I hadn't saved you, if your blood had been spilled there in front of me, I don't think I could have stopped myself from exposing us for what we are. But I only thought of that excuse later. At the time, all I could think was, 'Not her.'"

He closed his eyes, lost in his agonized confession. I listened, more eager than rational. Common sense told me I should be terrified. Instead, I was relieved to finally understand. And I was filled with compassion for his suffering, even now, as he confessed his craving to take my life.

I finally was able to speak, though my voice was faint. "In the hospital?"

His eyes flashed up to mine. "I was appalled. I couldn't believe I had put us in danger after all, put myself in your power – you of all people. As if I needed another motive to kill you." We both flinched as that word slipped out. "But it had the opposite effect," he continued quickly. "I fought with Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper when they suggested that now was the time... the worst fight we've ever had. Carlisle sided with me, and Alice." He grimaced when he said her name. I couldn't imagine why. "Esme told me to do whatever I had to in order to stay." He shook his head indulgently.

"All that next day I eavesdropped on the minds of everyone you spoke to, shocked that you didn't dispute what I claimed happened, even as others swore they hadn't seen me near you. I didn't understand you at all. But I knew that I couldn't become more involved with you. I did my very best to stay as far from you as possible. And every day the perfume of your skin, your breath, your hair... it hit me as hard as the very first day."

He met my eyes again, and they were surprisingly tender.

"And for all that," he continued, "I'd have fared better if I _had_ exposed us all at that first moment, than if now, here – with no witnesses and nothing to stop me – I were to hurt you."

"Why?" I needed to understand his motivations.

"Isabella." He pronounced my full name carefully, then playfully ruffled my hair with his free hand. A shock ran through my body at his casual touch. "Bella, I couldn't live with myself if I ever hurt you. You don't know how it's tortured me." He looked down, ashamed again. "The thought of you, still, white, cold... to never see you blush scarlet again, to never see that flash of intuition in your eyes when you see through my pretenses... it would be unendurable." He lifted his glorious, agonized eyes to mine. "You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever."

My head was spinning at the rapid change in direction our conversation had taken. From the cheerful topic of my impending demise, we were suddenly declaring ourselves. He waited, and, even though I looked down to study our hands between us, I knew his golden eyes were on me.

His words held a small amount of hope for me though. Obviously, if he was going to walk away, he'd never be able to see my blush again, so that meant he planned to stay.

"You already know how I feel, of course," I finally said. "I'm here... which, roughly translated, means I would rather die than stay away from you." I frowned. "I'm an idiot."

"You _are_ an idiot," he agreed with a laugh. Our eyes met, and I laughed, too. We laughed together at the idiocy and sheer impossibility of such a moment.

"And so the lion fell in love with the lamb..." he murmured. I looked away, hiding my eyes as I thrilled at the word.

"What a stupid lamb," I sighed.

"What a sick, masochistic lion." He stared into the shadowy forest for a long moment, and I wondered where his thoughts had taken him.

"Why... ?" I began, and then paused, not sure how to continue.

He looked at me and smiled; sunlight glinted off his face, his teeth.

"Yes?"

"Tell me why you ran from me before."

His smile faded. "You know why."

"No, I mean, _exactly_ what did I do wrong? I'll have to be on my guard, you see, so I better start learning what I shouldn't do. This, for example –" I stroked the back of his hand "– seems to be all right."

He smiled again. "You didn't do anything wrong, Bella. It was my fault."

"But I want to help, if I can, to not make this harder for you."

"Well..." He contemplated for a moment. "It was just how close you were. Most humans instinctively shy away from us, are repelled by our alienness... I wasn't expecting you to come so close. And the smell of your _throat._ " He stopped short, looking to see if he'd upset me.

"Okay, then," I said flippantly, trying to alleviate the suddenly tense atmosphere. I tucked my chin. "No throat exposure."

It worked; he laughed. "No, really, it was more the surprise than anything else."

He raised his free hand and placed it gently on the side of my neck. I sat very still, the chill of his touch a natural warning – a warning telling me to be terrified. But there was no feeling of fear in me. There were, however, other feelings, intense feelings that only he seemed to stir in me. How much of my desire was lust, and how much was love? I wasn't sure, but I knew that part of me desperately wanted to find out.

"You see," he said. "Perfectly fine."

My blood was racing, and I wished I could slow it, sensing that this must make everything so much more difficult – the thudding of my pulse in my veins. Surely he could hear it.

"The blush on your cheeks is lovely," he murmured. He gently freed his other hand and my hands fell limply into my lap. Softly he brushed my cheek, then held my face between his marble hands.

"Be very still," he whispered, as if I wasn't already frozen.

Slowly, never moving his eyes from mine, he leaned toward me. Then abruptly, but very gently, he rested his cold cheek against the hollow at the base of my throat. I was quite unable to move, even if I'd wanted to. I listened to the sound of his even breathing, watching the sun and wind play in his bronze hair, more human than any other part of him.

With deliberate slowness, his hands slid down the sides of my neck. I shivered, and I heard him catch his breath. But his hands didn't pause as they softly moved to my shoulders, and then stopped.

His face drifted to the side, his nose skimming across my collarbone. He came to rest with the side of his face pressed tenderly against my chest.

Listening to my heart.

"Ah," he sighed.

I don't know how long we sat without moving. It could have been minutes or hours. Eventually the throb of my pulse quieted, but he didn't move or speak again as he held me. I knew at any moment it could be too much, and my life could end – so quickly that I might not even notice. And I couldn't make myself be afraid. I couldn't think of anything, except that he was touching me.

And then, too soon, he released me.

His eyes were peaceful.

"It won't be so hard again," he said with satisfaction.

"Was that very hard for you?"

"Not nearly as bad as I imagined it would be. And you?"

"No, it wasn't bad... for me."

He smiled at my inflection. "You know what I mean."

I smiled.

"Here." He took my hand and placed it against his cheek. "Do you feel how warm it is?"

And it was almost warm, his usually icy skin. But I barely noticed, for I was touching his face.

"Don't move," I whispered.

No one could be still like Edward. He closed his eyes and became as immobile as stone, a carving under my hand.

I moved even more slowly than he had, careful not to make one unexpected move. I caressed his cheek, delicately stroked his eyelid, the purple shadow in the hollow under his eye. I traced the shape of his perfect nose, and then, so carefully, his flawless lips. His lips parted under my hand, and I could feel his cool breath on my fingertips. I wanted to lean in, to inhale the scent of him. I also wanted to slip my finger in his mouth, want his lips to wrap around. So I dropped my hand and leaned away, not wanting to push him too far.

He opened his eyes, and they were hungry. Not in a way to make me fear, but rather to tighten the muscles in the pit of my stomach and send my pulse hammering through my veins again.

"I wish," he whispered, "I wish you could feel the... complexity... the confusion... I feel. That you could understand."

He raised his hand to my hair, then carefully brushed it across my face.

"Tell me," I breathed.

"I don't think I can. I've told you, on the one hand, the hunger – the thirst – that, deplorable creature that I am, I feel for you. And I think you can understand that, to an extent. Though –" he half-smiled "– as you are not an alcoholic, you probably can't empathize completely.

"But..." His thumb touched my lips lightly.

My mouth opened slightly as if it had a mind of it's own accord, his thumb slipped in my mouth, and I bit down gently, barely resisting the urge to close my eyes and suck.

Hi eyes darkened. "There are other hungers. Hungers I don't even understand, that are foreign to me."

I let his thumb slip free. "I may understand _that_ better than you think." As I was sure I had just demonstrated

"I'm not used to feeling so human. Is it always like this?"

"For me?" I paused, remembering the past two years before with Tyler. There had been, one or two times when I'd honestly wanted him to kiss me, but I'd never desired anything with him in the way I did with Edward. "No, never. Never before this."

He held my hands between his. They felt so feeble in his iron strength.

"I don't know how to be close to you," he admitted. "I don't know if I can."

I leaned forward very slowly, cautioning him with my eyes. I placed my cheek against his stone chest. I could hear his breath, and nothing else.

"This is enough," I sighed, closing my eyes.

In a very human gesture, he put his arms around me and pressed his face against my hair.

"You're better at this than you give yourself credit for," I noted.

"I have human instincts – they may be buried deep, but they're there."

We sat like that for another immeasurable moment; I wondered if he could be as unwilling to move as I was. But I could see the light was fading, the shadows of the forest beginning to touch us, and I sighed.

"You have to go."

"I thought you couldn't read my mind."

"It's getting clearer." I could hear a smile in his voice.

He took my shoulders and I looked into his face.

"Can I show you something?" he asked, sudden excitement flaring in his eyes.

"Show me what?"

"I'll show you how _I_ travel in the forest." He saw my expression. "Don't worry, you'll be very safe, and we'll get back to the car faster." His mouth twitched up into that crooked smile so beautiful my heart nearly stopped.

"Will you turn into a bat?" I asked warily.

He laughed, louder than I'd ever heard. "Like I haven't heard _that_ one before!"

"Right, I'm sure you get that all the time."

"Come on, little coward, climb on my back."

I waited to see if he was kidding, but, apparently, he meant it. He smiled as he read my hesitation, and reached for me. My heart reacted; even though he couldn't hear my thoughts, my pulse always gave me away. He then proceeded to sling me onto his back, with very little effort on my part, besides, when in place, clamping my legs and arms so tightly around him that it would choke a normal person. It was like clinging to a stone.

"I'm a bit heavier than your average backpack," I warned.

"Hah!" he snorted. I could almost hear his eyes rolling. I'd never seen him in such high spirits before.

He startled me, suddenly grabbing my hand, pressing my palm to his face, and inhaling deeply. My heart stopped for a moment.

"Easier all the time," he muttered.

And then he was running.

If I'd ever feared death before in his presence, it was nothing compared to how I felt now.

He streaked through the dark, thick underbrush of the forest like a bullet, like a ghost. There was no sound, no evidence that his feet touched the earth. His breathing never changed, never indicated any effort. But the trees flew by at deadly speeds, always missing us by inches.

I was too terrified to close my eyes, though the cool forest air whipped against my face and burned them. I felt as if I were stupidly sticking my head out the window of an airplane in flight. And, for the first time in my life, I felt the dizzy faintness of motion sickness.

Then it was over. We'd hiked hours this morning to reach Edward's meadow, and now, in a matter of minutes, we were back to the Volvo.

"Exhilarating, isn't it?" His voice was high, excited.

He stood motionless, waiting for me to climb down. I tried, but my muscles wouldn't respond. My arms and legs stayed locked around him while my head spun uncomfortably.

"Bella?" he asked, anxious now.

"I think I need to lie down," I gasped.

"Oh, sorry." He waited for me, but I still couldn't move.

"I think I need help," I admitted.

He laughed quietly, and gently loosened my stranglehold on his neck. There was no resisting the iron strength of his hands. Then he pulled me around to face him, cradling me in his arms like a small child. He held me for a moment, then carefully placed me on the springy ferns.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

I couldn't be sure how I felt when my head was spinning so crazily. "Dizzy, I think."

"Put your head between your knees."

I tried that, and it helped a little. I breathed in and out slowly, keeping my head very still. I felt him sitting beside me. The moments passed, and eventually I found that I could raise my head. There was a hollow ringing sound in my ears.

"I guess that wasn't the best idea," he mused.

I tried to be positive, but my voice was weak. "No, it was very interesting."

"Hah! You're as white as a ghost – no, you're as white as _me_!"

"I think I should have closed my eyes." I closed them now, hoping the ringing would stop.

"Remember that next time."

"Next time!" I groaned.

He laughed, his mood still radiant.

"Show-off," I muttered.

"Open your eyes, Bella," he said quietly.

And he was right there, his face so close to mine. His beauty stunned my mind – it was too much, an excess I couldn't grow accustomed to.

"I was thinking, while I was running..." He paused.

"About not hitting the trees, I hope."

"Silly Bella," he chuckled. "Running is second nature to me, it's not something I have to think about."

"Show-off," I muttered again.

He smiled.

"No," he continued, "I was thinking there was something I wanted to try." And he took my face in his hands again.

I couldn't breathe.

He hesitated – not in the normal way, the human way.

Not the way a man might hesitate before he kissed a woman, to gauge her reaction, to see how he would be received. Perhaps he would hesitate to prolong the moment, that ideal moment of anticipation, sometimes better than the kiss itself.

Edward hesitated to test himself, to see if this was safe, to make sure he was still in control of his need. And then his cold, marble lips pressed very softly against mine.

In spite of my very brief peck on the corner of his lips before, I was not prepared for my reaction. Actually, neither of us were prepared for my response.

Blood boiled under my skin, burned in my lips. My breath came in a wild gasp. My fingers knotted in his hair, clutching him to me. My lips parted as I breathed in his heady scent. Instinct had me wanting to almost climb into him.

Immediately I felt him turn to unresponsive stone beneath my lips. His hands gently, but with irresistible force, pushed my face back. I opened my eyes and saw his guarded expression.

"Oops," I breathed.

"That's an understatement."

His eyes were wild, his jaw clenched in acute restraint, yet he didn't lapse from his perfect articulation. He held my face just inches from his. He dazzled my eyes.

"Should I... ?" I tried to disengage myself, to give him some room.

His hands refused to let me move so much as an inch.

"No, it's tolerable. Wait for a moment, please." His voice was polite, controlled.

I kept my eyes on his, watched as the excitement in them faded and gentled.

Then he smiled a surprisingly impish grin.

"There," he said, obviously pleased with himself.

"Tolerable?" I asked.

He laughed aloud. "I'm stronger than I thought. It's nice to know."

"I wish I could say the same. I'm sorry."

"You _are_ only human, after all."

"Thanks so much," I said, my voice acerbic.

He was on his feet in one of his lithe, almost invisibly quick movements. He held out his hand to me, an unexpected gesture. I was so used to our standard of careful non-contact. I took his icy hand, needing the support more than I thought. My balance had not yet returned.

"Are you still faint from the run? Or was it my kissing expertise?" How lighthearted, how human he seemed as he laughed now, his seraphic face untroubled. He was a different Edward than the one I had known. And I felt all the more besotted by him.

"I can't be sure, I'm still woozy," I managed to respond. "I think it's some of both, though."

"Maybe you should let me drive."

"Are you insane?" I protested.

"I can drive better than you on your best day," he teased. "You have much slower reflexes."

"I'm sure that's true, but I don't think my nerves could take it."

"Some trust, please, Bella."

My hand was in my pocket, curled tightly around the key to his car. I pursed my lips, deliberated, then shook my head with a tight grin.

"Nope. Not a chance."

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

I started to step around him, heading for the driver's side. He might have let me pass if I hadn't wobbled slightly. Then again, he might not have. His arm created an inescapable snare around my waist.

"Bella, I've already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive. I'm not about to let you behind the wheel of a vehicle when you can't even walk straight. Besides, friends don't let friends drive drunk," he quoted with a chuckle. I could smell the unbearably sweet fragrance coming off his chest.

"Drunk?" I objected.

"You're intoxicated by my very presence." He was grinning that playful smirk again.

"I can't argue with that," I sighed. There was no way around it; I couldn't resist him in anything. I held the key high and dropped it, watching his hand flash like lightning to catch it soundlessly. "Could you, for once though, just drive slowly? I might actually hurl if you don't – after that run through the trees."

He laughed.

"And are you not affected at all?" I asked, irked. "By my presence?"

Again his mobile features transformed, his expression became soft, warm. He didn't answer at first; he simply bent his face to mine, and brushed his lips slowly along my jaw, from my ear to my chin, back and forth. I trembled.

"Regardless," he finally murmured, "I have better reflexes."


	15. Chapter 14 - Mind Over Matter

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 14 – Mind Over Matter**

He could drive well, when he kept the speed reasonable, I had to admit. Like so many things, it seemed effortless to him. He drove one-handed, holding my other hand in the space between the seats. Sometimes he gazed into the setting sun, sometimes he glanced at me – my face, my hair blowing out the open window, our hands twined together.

He had a CD in playing music I didn't recognize at first, I just wasn't that familiar with the singer's music, but I finally recognized it.

"Sinatra?"

"He was good, better than a lot of singers that I've listened to over the decades."

"Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?" I asked, tentative, not wanting to upset his buoyant humor.

"Does it matter much?" His smile, to my relief, remained unclouded.

"Not at all, but I still wonder..." I grimaced. "There's nothing like an unsolved mystery to keep you up at night."

"I wonder if it will upset you," he reflected to himself. He gazed into the sun; the minutes passed.

"Try me," I finally said.

He sighed, and then looked into my eyes, seeming to forget the road completely for a time. Whatever he saw there must have encouraged him. He looked into the sun – the light of the setting orb glittered off his skin in ruby-tinged sparkles – and spoke.

"I was born in Chicago in 1901." He paused and glanced at me from the corner of his eyes. My face was carefully unsurprised, patient for the rest. He smiled a tiny smile and continued. "Carlisle found me in a hospital in the summer of 1918. I was seventeen, and dying of the Spanish influenza."

He heard my intake of breath, though it was barely audible to my own ears. He looked down into my eyes again.

"I don't remember it well – it was a very long time ago, and human memories fade." He was lost in his thoughts for a short time before he went on. "I do remember how it felt, when Carlisle saved me. It's not an easy thing, not something you could forget."

"Your parents?"

"They had already died from the disease. I was alone. That was why he chose me. In all the chaos of the epidemic, no one would ever realize I was gone."

"How did he... save you?"

A few seconds passed before he answered. He seemed to choose his words carefully.

"It was difficult. Not many of us have the restraint necessary to accomplish it. But Carlisle has always been the most humane, the most compassionate of us... I don't think you could find his equal throughout all of history." He paused. "For me, it was merely very, very painful."

I could tell from the set of his lips, he would say no more on this subject. I suppressed my curiosity, though it was far from idle. There were many things I needed to think through on this particular issue, things that were only beginning to occur to me. No doubt his quick mind had already comprehended every aspect that eluded me.

His soft voice interrupted my thoughts. "He acted from loneliness. That's usually the reason behind the choice. I was the first in Carlisle's family, though he found Esme soon after. She fell from a cliff. They brought her straight to the hospital morgue, though, somehow, her heart was still beating."

"So you must be dying, then, to become..." We never said the word, and I couldn't frame it now.

"No, that's just Carlisle. He would never do that to someone who had another choice." The respect in his voice was profound whenever he spoke of his father figure. "It is easier he says, though," he continued, "if the blood is weak." He looked at the now-dark road, and I could feel the subject closing again.

"And Emmett and Rosalie?"

"Carlisle brought Rosalie to our family next. I didn't realize till much later that he was hoping she would be to me what Esme was to him – he was careful with his thoughts around me." He rolled his eyes. "But she was never more than a sister. It was only two years later that she found Emmett. She was hunting – we were in Appalachia at the time – and found a bear about to finish him off. She carried him back to Carlisle, more than a hundred miles, afraid she wouldn't be able to do it herself.

"I'm only beginning to guess how difficult that journey was for her." He threw a pointed glance in my direction, and raised our hands, still folded together, to brush my cheek with the back of his hand.

"But she made it," I encouraged, looking away from the unbearable beauty of his eyes.

"Yes," he murmured. "She saw something in his face that made her strong enough. And they've been together ever since. Sometimes they live separately from us, as a married couple. But the younger we pretend to be, the longer we can stay in any given place. Forks seemed perfect, so we all enrolled in high school." He laughed. "I suppose we'll have to go to their wedding in a few years, _again._ "

"Alice and Jasper?"

"Alice and Jasper are two very rare creatures. They both developed a conscience, as we refer to it, with no outside guidance. Jasper belonged to another... family, a _very_ different kind of family. He became depressed, and he wandered on his own. Alice found him. Like me, she has certain gifts above and beyond the norm for our kind."

"Really?" I interrupted, fascinated. "But you said you were the only one who could hear people's thoughts."

"That's true. She knows other things. She _sees_ things – things that might happen, things that are coming. But it's very subjective. The future isn't set in stone. Things change."

His jaw set when he said that, and his eyes darted to my face and away so quickly that I wasn't sure if I only imagined it.

"What kinds of things does she see?"

"She saw Jasper and knew that he was looking for her before he knew it himself. She saw Carlisle and our family, and they came together to find us. She's most sensitive to non-humans. She always sees, for example, when another group of our kind is coming near. And any threat they may pose."

"Are there a lot of... your kind?" I was surprised. How many of them could walk among us undetected?

"No, not many. But most won't settle in any one place. Only those like us, who've given up hunting you people –" a sly glance in my direction "– can live together with humans for any length of time. We've only found one other family like ours, in a small village in Alaska. We lived together for a time, but there were so many of us that we became too noticeable. Those of us who live... differently tend to band together."

"And the others?"

"Nomads, for the most part. We've all lived that way at times. It gets tedious, like anything else. But we run across the others now and then, because most of us prefer the North."

"Why is that?"

He parked out front of my house. I was grateful to see that Charlie hadn't made it home yet, mostly because I needed to have time to prepare Edward for what I was planning.

"Did you have your eyes open this afternoon?" he teased. "Do you think I could walk down the street in the sunlight without causing traffic accidents? There's a reason why we chose the Olympic Peninsula, one of the most sunless places in the world. It's nice to be able to go outside in the day. You wouldn't believe how tired you can get of nighttime in eighty-odd years."

"So that's where the legends came from?"

"Probably."

"And Alice came from another family, like Jasper?"

"No, and that _is_ a mystery. Alice doesn't remember her human life at all. And she doesn't know who created her. She awoke alone. Whoever made her walked away, and none of us understand why, or how, he could. If she hadn't had that other sense, if she hadn't seen Jasper and Carlisle and known that she would someday become one of us, she probably would have turned into a total savage."

There was so much to think through, so much I still wanted to ask. But, to my great embarrassment, my stomach growled. I'd been so intrigued, I hadn't even noticed I was hungry. I realized now that I was ravenous.

I checked the clock in the dash of the Volvo. Charlie might not have been home, but it was later than I had realized, and past time that I normally would have ate.

"I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from dinner."

"I'm fine, really."

"I've never spent much time around anyone who eats food. I forget."

"I want to stay with you." It was easier to say in the darkness, knowing as I spoke how my voice

would betray me, my hopeless addiction to him. I closed my eyes. "Would you like to come in, Edward?"

"Yes, if it's all right." I heard the door close quietly, and almost simultaneously he was outside my door, opening it for me.

"Very human," I complimented him.

"It's definitely resurfacing."

He walked beside me in the night, so quietly I had to peek at him constantly to be sure he was still there. In the darkness he looked much more normal. Still pale, still dreamlike in his beauty, but no longer the fantastic sparkling creature of our sunlit afternoon.

He reached the door ahead of me and opened it for me. I paused halfway through the frame.

"The door was unlocked?"

"No, I used the key from under the eave."

I stepped inside, flicked on the porch light, and turned to look at him with my eyebrows raised. I was sure I'd never used that key in front of him.

"I was curious about you."

"You spied on me?" But somehow I couldn't infuse my voice with the proper outrage. I was flattered, even as stalker warnings flashed in the back of my mind.

He was unrepentant. "What else is there to do at night?"

I let it go for the moment and went down the hall to the kitchen. He was there before me, needing no guide. He sat in the very chair I'd tried to picture him in. His beauty lit up the kitchen. It was a moment before I could look away.

I concentrated on getting my dinner, taking last night's lasagna from the fridge, placing a square on a plate, heating it in the microwave. It revolved, filling the kitchen with the smell of tomatoes and oregano. I didn't take my eyes from the plate of food as I spoke.

"How often?" I asked casually.

"Hmmm?" He sounded as if I had pulled him from some other train of thought.

I still didn't turn around. "How often did you come here?"

"I come here almost every night."

I whirled, stunned. The stalker alert was flashing bright red in the back of my mind. I told that part of my mind to shut up. "Why?"

"You're interesting when you sleep." He spoke matter-of-factly. "You talk."

"No!" I gasped, heat flooding my face all the way to my hairline. I gripped the kitchen counter for support. I knew I talked in my sleep, of course; Rebecca and Rachel both used to tease me about it. I hadn't thought it was something I needed to worry about with him, though.

His expression shifted instantly to chagrin. "Are you very angry with me?"

"That depends!" I felt and sounded like I'd had the breath knocked out of me.

He waited.

"On?" he urged.

"What you heard!" I wailed.

Instantly, silently, he was at my side, taking my hands carefully in his.

"Don't be upset!" he pleaded. He dropped his face to the level of my eyes, holding my gaze. I was embarrassed. I tried to look away.

"You talk about ice cream cones occasionally," he whispered. "You worry about your mother. You talk about Jacob... and snakes. You complain about someone named Andrew from time to time. In the last week you've been grumbling about wolves a lot. I think that one's pretty obvious as to why." He smiled softly, hoping, I could see, not to offend me further.

"Anything else?" I demanded.

He knew what I was getting at. "You did say my name," he admitted.

I sighed in defeat. "A lot?"

"How much do you mean by 'a lot,' exactly?"

"Oh no!" I hung my head.

He pulled me against his chest, softly, naturally.

"Don't be self-conscious," he whispered in my ear. "If I could dream at all, it would be about you. And I'm not ashamed of it."

Then we both heard the sound of tires on the brick driveway, saw the headlights flash through the front windows, down the hall to us. I stiffened in his arms.

"Should I leave?"

"No," I said immediately. "You are staying right here, and you're going to say whatever it takes to convince my dad that your greatest desire in life is to be a cop and that you wouldn't even consider of taking advantage of my innocence while we're gone. Or I'm going to Tacoma tomorrow by myself."

"Ummm..."

I almost grinned. I'd managed to shock him into speechlessness. "Um nothing. You're the mind reader. I suggest you use it to impress on my Dad how much of a responsible young man that you are."

I heard the key in the door.

"Now sit back at the table like a proper gentleman."

I pulled my plate of food out of the microwave and used one of the oldest tricks in the book. I scooped my slice of lasagna off the plate and placed it on a new one, quickly setting the empty plate with a few splashes of sauce in front of Edward along with the fork I'd just used to move it. I got out another fork for myself.

He raised an eyebrow at me.

I got out another plate and filled it with a second slice of lasagna, starting that one to heat in the microwave for Charlie just as he walked into the kitchen.

"I didn't know you were going to have a boy over, Bell."

I didn't turn around to look at him. "We only just got home a few minutes ago, dad."

"Where did you go?"

"Hiking, it was a last minute decision on my part."

"Is that a euphemism for something, Bella?" His voice was sharp.

I spun to stare at him in annoyance. "Yes, dad, it's a euphemism for practically breaking my ankle after walking five miles in the woods," I snapped. I closed my eyes, counting backwards from ten as I took a deep breath. "Now, if you're done embarrassing me in front of Edward, would you like to eat?"

He had the grace to look slightly contrite. He knew me better than to think I'd be going off and just randomly fool around with someone... even if part of me found that idea intriguing.

"Sure, Bell." He took a seat at the table.

I started to eat my plate of food while I waited on the microwave to turn off.

"So, you didn't offer to take my daughter to the dance tonight?"

I felt the blush burning my cheeks at a thousand degrees kelvin.

"I did, sir. I think her exact reply to me was pigs could grow wings and fly and it would still be a no."

If anything, my blush got even hotter.

"You know I don't like dances," I mumbled, half under my breath. I brightened before anything else embarrassing came up, speaking quickly. "Actually, while we were hiking today, Edward was telling me about his desire to become a cop. He thinks protecting people from things like breaking and entering, and stalking are quite important." I stared at him.

Edward grimaced, quickly smoothing out his face before Charlie saw it.

"That's right, sir. Bella mentioned to me that she was going down to Tacoma for the open house at the police academy. I was planning on going there myself. I had suggested that perhaps she ride down with me, as my car can get there and back on a single tank of gas." He paused as Charlie sucked in a breath.

I could tell Charlie was about to explode.

"We would of course stay in different rooms at whatever hotel we went to. Bella and I have only been seeing each other for a few days and I would not dishonor her by cheapening such an early blossoming relationship. Nor would I disgrace my family like that."

I bit my tongue to keep from snickering. He was laying it on thick.

"And what do your parents think of this plan of yours?" Charlie asked sharply.

"I actually haven't told them yet. I figured, since tomorrow is going to be a bright and warm day." He looked at me. "That Bella and I could go to my place in the morning and she could actually meet the rest of my family. We would discuss it then and leave tomorrow evening if there weren't any problems... Though I'm sure my parents wouldn't have an issue with it. They are supportive of my... capability to look ahead to my future."

My breath caught while I was staring at his burning eyes. I was quite positive he was talking about me, and I sincerely hoped that Charlie didn't recognize that inflection.

He didn't. "Well, I suppose if Carlisle goes for it then I'll agree too. You're right about one thing. That vehicle of yours would definitely get better gas mileage." His words were half muttered.

I grinned.

After that, Edward distracted him with talk about a football game on the tv. I grimaced in annoyance, and then got even more annoyed as they bonded over the football game they watched in the living room. I was relatively certain, that by the end of the two hour game, Charlie like Edward more than he liked me.

I guided Edward to the front door for the night. "I so hate you right now," I grumbled.

He grinned widely.

"I'll be back soon," he murmured, leaning forward and kissing my forehead gently.

. . .

After I got upstairs to my bedroom, I threw my window open, figuring Edward was planning on making an evening visit. Then I turned to my dresser, opening the drawer I'd only just barely put all the clothes that my mom had gotten me. I looked through it, for the shirt I remembered putting in the drawer, finally finding it close to the bottom.

It was, by far, the most modest item my mother had gotten me – a simple ivory silk shirt with spaghetti straps and lace around the bottom. I shut the drawer, opening another and pulling out a pair of black sleep shorts.

It wasn't much, but it was a hell of a lot better than the ratter t-shirt that I normally wore to bed. I blushed furiously at the thought of him having seen me sleeping in that.

I quickly went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, taking a quick shower.

By the time I was done and went into my bedroom, Edward was there, sitting on my bed. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw what I was wearing. I blushed again.

"You know, there are twelve step programs for people with stalking fetishes," I muttered to get him to stop staring.

It worked. He laughed softly. "It's not stalking if you knew I was coming. And since you left your window open you can't even pretend innocence on that part." He held out his hand. "Why don't you sit with me?"

I stepped over, taking his hand as I sat beside him without stopping to even consider it might be a bad idea.

He grabbed my chin and tipped it up to look at me. "You look quite warm, you know."

I could feel my heart thudding in my chest as he leaned forward. I made myself stay perfectly still, my fists clenched at my sides. His lips touched mine, kissing me gently for the briefest of moments, before moving his head to the side and laying his cool cheek against my skin.

"Mmmmmm..." he breathed.

It was very difficult, while he was touching me, to frame a coherent question. It took me a minute of scattered concentration to begin.

"It seems to be... much easier for you, now, to be close to me."

"Does it seem that way to you?" he murmured, his nose gliding to the corner of my jaw. I felt his hand, lighter than a moth's wing, brushing my damp hair back, so that his lips could touch the hollow beneath my ear.

"Much, much easier," I said, trying to exhale.

"Hmm."

"So I was wondering..." I began again, but his fingers were slowly tracing my collarbone, and I lost my train of thought.

"Yes?" he breathed.

"Why is that," my voice shook, embarrassing me, "do you think?"

I felt the tremor of his breath on my neck as he laughed. "Mind over matter."

I could feel goosebumps starting to raise on my skin, could feel a raising desire in me that was pooling as a soft heat inside me. I didn't want to push him too far though. So I pulled back; as I moved, he froze – and I could no longer hear the sound of his breathing.

We stared cautiously at each other for a moment, and then, as his clenched jaw gradually relaxed, his expression became puzzled.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No – the opposite. You're driving me crazy," I explained.

He considered that briefly, and when he spoke, he sounded pleased. "Really?" A triumphant smile slowly lit his face.

"Would you like a round of applause?" I asked sarcastically.

He grinned.

"I'm just pleasantly surprised," he clarified. "In the last hundred years or so," his voice was teasing, "I never imagined anything like this. I didn't believe I would ever find someone I wanted to be with... in another way than my brothers and sisters. And then to find, even though it's all new to me, that I'm good at it... at being with you..."

"You're good at everything," I pointed out.

He shrugged, allowing that, and we both laughed in whispers.

"But how can it be so easy now?" I pressed. "This afternoon..."

"It's not _easy,_ " he sighed. "But this afternoon, I was still... undecided. I am sorry about that, it was unforgivable for me to behave so."

He meant that he still hadn't been sure he wouldn't kill me, I was certain. I still saw it in his eyes that he was contemplating leaving. "Not unforgivable," I disagreed.

"Thank you." He smiled. "You see," he continued, looking down now, "I wasn't sure if I was strong enough..." He picked up one of my hands and pressed it lightly to his face. "And while there was still that possibility that I might be... overcome –" he breathed in the scent at my wrist "– I was... susceptible. Until I made up my mind that I _was_ strong enough, that there was no possibility at all that I would... that I ever could..."

I'd never seen him struggle so hard for words. It was so... human.

"So there's no possibility now?"

"Mind over matter," he repeated, smiling, his teeth bright even in the darkness.

"Wow, that was easy," I said.

He threw back his head and laughed, quietly as a whisper, but still exuberantly.

"Easy for _you_!" he amended, touching my nose with his fingertip.

And then his face was abruptly serious.

"I'm trying," he whispered, his voice pained. "If it gets to be... too much, I'm fairly sure I'll be able to leave."

I scowled. I didn't like the talk of leaving.

"And it will be harder tomorrow," he continued. "I've had the scent of you in my head all day, and I've grown amazingly desensitized. If I'm away from you for any length of time, I'll have to start over again. Not quite from scratch, though, I think."

"Don't go away, then," I responded, unable to hide the longing in my voice.

"That suits me," he replied, his face relaxing into a gentle smile. "Bring on the shackles – I'm your prisoner." But his long hands formed manacles around _my_ wrists as he spoke. He laughed his quiet, musical laugh. He'd laughed more tonight than I'd ever heard in all the time I'd spent with him.

"You seem more... optimistic than usual," I observed. "I haven't seen you like this before."

"Isn't it supposed to be like this?" He smiled. "The glory of first love, and all that. It's incredible, isn't it, the difference between reading about something, seeing it in the pictures, and experiencing it?"

"Very different," I agreed. "More forceful than I'd imagined."

"For example –" his words flowed swiftly now, I had to concentrate to catch it all "– the emotion of jealousy. I've read about it a hundred thousand times, seen actors portray it in a thousand different

plays and movies. I believed I understood that one pretty clearly. But it shocked me..." He grimaced. "Do you remember the day that Mike asked you to the dance?"

I nodded, though I remembered that day for a different reason. "The day you started talking to me again."

"I was surprised by the flare of resentment, almost fury, that I felt – I didn't recognize what it was at first. I was even more aggravated than usual that I couldn't know what you were thinking, why you refused him. Was it simply for your friend's sake? Was there someone else? I knew I had no right to care either way. I _tried_ not to care.

"And then the line started forming," he chuckled. I scowled in the darkness.

"I waited, unreasonably anxious to hear what you would say to them, to watch your expressions. I couldn't deny the relief I felt, watching the annoyance on your face. But I couldn't be sure.

"That was the first night I came here. I wrestled all night, while watching you sleep, with the chasm between what I knew was _right,_ moral, ethical, and what I _wanted._ I knew that if I continued to ignore you as I should, or if I left for a few years, till you were out of high school and gone away to college, that someday you would say yes to Mike, or someone like him. It made me angry.

"And then," he whispered, "as you were sleeping, you said my name. You spoke so clearly, at first I thought you'd woken. But you rolled over restlessly and mumbled my name once more, and sighed. The feeling that coursed through me then was unnerving, staggering. And I knew I couldn't ignore you any longer." He was silent for a moment, probably listening to the suddenly uneven pounding of my heart.

"But jealousy... it's a strange thing. So much more powerful than I would have thought. And irrational! Hearing you talk about your Jacob in your sleep..." He shook his head angrily.

"You have no right to be jealous of hearing things I had no idea you were listening in to."

"Maybe not, but I'm new at this; you're resurrecting the human in me, and everything feels stronger because it's fresh."

"But honestly," I teased, "for that to bother you, after I have to hear that Rosalie – Rosalie, the incarnation of pure beauty, _Rosalie_ _–_ was meant for you. Emmett or no Emmett, how can I compete with that?"

"There's no competition." His teeth gleamed. He drew my trapped hands around his back, holding me to his chest. I kept as still as I could, even breathing with caution.

"I _know_ there's no competition," I mumbled into his cold skin. "That's the problem."

"Of course Rosalie _is_ beautiful in her way, but even if she wasn't like a sister to me, even if Emmett didn't belong with her, she could never have one tenth, no, one hundredth of the attraction you hold for me." He was serious now, thoughtful. "For almost ninety years I've walked among my kind, and yours... all the time thinking I was complete in myself, not realizing what I was seeking. And not finding anything, because you weren't alive yet."

"It hardly seems fair," I whispered, my face still resting on his chest, listening to his breath come and go. "I haven't had to wait at all. Why should I get off so easily?"

"You're right," he agreed with amusement. "I should make this harder for you, definitely." He freed one of his hands, released my wrist, only to gather it carefully into his other hand. He stroked my wet hair softly, from the top of my head to my waist. "You only have to risk your life every second you spend with me, that's surely not much. You only have to turn your back on nature, on humanity... what's that worth?"

"Very little – I don't feel deprived of anything."

"Not yet." And his voice was abruptly full of ancient grief.

I tried to pull back, to look in his face, but his hand locked my wrists in an unbreakable hold.

"Will you stay the night with me?" I asked against his chest since he wouldn't let me up. I knew, realistically, that he'd apparently been in my room through the night for days now, but I was asking for more than that. I wanted more than a stalker hiding in the corner.

His intake of breath told me that he understood what I was asking. He let me go, pushing me back enough that he could look in my eyes. "Bella... do you understand what you're –"

I pressed my finger to his lips. "You said that if you're away from me for too long then you'll have to start again. That you're desensitized currently. Stay with me, stay desensitized." I let my hand fall.

He closed his eyes as he barely breathed the word, "Okay."

I slowly got up, heading to my bedroom light switch and flipping it off. Then I returned to the bed, throwing the covers down enough to get in, lying down, pushing my feet under the covers.

Suddenly, he was there, laying down next to me, his hand on my arm and pulling so gently. I turned on my side, facing him since he was already on his.

"Can I ask a question?" I asked softly.

"You just did." I could see his lips curl into a smile in spite of the darkness.

I glowered at him.

"What is it?"

"No, forget it. I changed my mind."

"Bella, you can ask me anything."

I didn't answer, and he groaned.

"I keep thinking it will get less frustrating, not hearing your thoughts. But it just gets worse and _worse._ "

"I'm glad you can't read my thoughts. It's bad enough that you eavesdrop on my sleep-talking."

"Please?" His voice was so persuasive, so impossible to resist.

I shook my head.

"If you don't tell me, I'll just assume it's something much worse than it is," he threatened darkly. "Please?" Again, that pleading voice.

"Well," I began...

"Yes?"

"You said that Rosalie and Emmett will get married soon... Is that... marriage... the same as it is for humans?"

He laughed in earnest now, understanding. "Is _that_ what you're getting at?"

I fidgeted, unable to answer.

"Yes, I suppose it is much the same," he said. "I told you, most of those human desires are there, just hidden behind more powerful desires."

"Oh," was all I could say.

"Was there a purpose behind your curiosity?"

"Well, I did wonder... about you and me... someday..."

He was instantly serious, I could tell by the sudden stillness of his body. I froze, too, reacting automatically.

"I don't think that... that... would be possible for us."

"Because it would be too hard for you, if I were that... close?" Of course, given that we were already almost that close, less than a foot of space and some clothes separating us and preventing anything too intimate from happening... I sort of doubted he could make me believe that argument.

"That's certainly a problem. But that's not what I was thinking of. It's just that you are so soft, so fragile. I have to mind my actions every moment that we're together so that I don't hurt you. I could kill you quite easily, Bella, simply by accident." His voice had become just a soft murmur. He moved his icy palm to rest it against my cheek. "If I was too hasty... if for one second I wasn't paying enough attention, I could reach out, meaning to touch your face, and crush your skull by mistake. You don't realize how incredibly _breakable_ you are. I can never ever afford to lose any kind of control when I'm with you."

He waited for me to respond, growing anxious when I didn't. "Are you scared?" he asked.

I waited for a minute to answer, so the words would be true. "No. I'm fine."

He seemed to deliberate for a moment. "I'm curious now, though," he said, his voice light again. "Have _you_ ever...?" He trailed off suggestively.

"Of course not." I flushed. "I told you I've never felt like this about anyone before, not even close."

"I know. It's just that I know other people's thoughts. I know love and lust don't always keep the same company."

"They do for me," I sighed. Had I, in the past couple of years started to explore my reaction to my own touch? Sure. What teenager hadn't? But I saw no point in mentioning that as it wasn't what we were really talking about here.

"That's nice. We have that one thing in common, at least." He sounded satisfied.

"Your human instincts..." I began. He waited. "Well, do you find me attractive, in _that_ way, at all?"

He laughed and lightly rumpled my nearly dry hair.

"I may not be a human, but I am a man," he assured me.

I closed my eyes, rolling onto my back, not wanting him to see the frustration his words had caused. I didn't know if it was better, or worse, knowing that he definitely wanted me like that but quite likely wouldn't ever act on it.

"I wish..." he murmured softly.

My eyes opened, he was there, half hovering over me.

He continued, softly, "I don't know if we'll ever be able to go as far as what I'm sure you'd like, Bella. If we ever did, it definitely wouldn't be anytime soon... but I can maybe give you something, if you'll let me."

"Yes," I barely managed to breath the word.

"You'll have to be still, Bella."

I nodded once, before stopping myself, biting my lower lip. I closed my eyes.

"When you bite your lip like that, you make me want to bite it," he muttered. Then suddenly his nose was at my throat, his lips kissing my collarbone. I felt his tongue gently sweep across my skin before his lips returned to kissing my skin, slowly moving down the exposed portion of my chest.

I clenched my hands into fists in an effort to not reach out and grab his hair. I was quite sure he could feel my heart pounding in my chest as goosebumps yet again raised on my skin.

He pulled back slightly. "May..." he trailed off.

I wasn't sure where he was going with his words, but I was quite willing for anything with the way his lips felt on me. He was better at a slow seduction than the harlequin romance novels that were a secret guilty pleasure of mine. "Yes," I barely breathed again.

Suddenly his hand was sliding up my stomach under my shirt, his fingers barely touching my skin, then his hand, ever so lightly, brushed the side of my breast. I gasped, my toes curling at the bottom of the bed.

My shirt fluttered back against my now oversensitive skin as he immediately pulled back.

I was concerned, for a moment, that he was going to disappear suddenly.

I didn't have to worry long though, because his lips were suddenly at my ear as he murmured, so softly that if there's been any more space than that I was quite sure I wouldn't hear it, "I can smell your reaction to me. It's a heady knowledge."

Then he rolled onto his back, slightly away from me. "I think that's enough testing either of our self control for tonight. To begin with, you have a very floral smell, like lavender... or freesia. And while you're so... excited, it's extremely intensified. It's mouth-watering."

I was grateful that he was being open with me, even if it was a little disturbing. Still, I opted for levity. "Yeah, it's an off day when I don't get _somebody_ telling me how edible I smell."

He chuckled, and then sighed. "You should sleep."

"I'm not tired yet." Since he'd mentioned that he could smell just how _excited_ I was, he should have realized that.

"Then may I ask some questions?" he asked softly.

"Sure." I was relatively sure I'd already answered everything he could possibly think of anyways, so what more could he want to know?

"Well, obviously, I couldn't ask before without revealing that I'd been coming to your room, but now I want to know about the things you talked about in your sleep."

"Okay..." There hadn't been a question in his statement.

"So what does Jacob have to do with snakes?"

"Jacob, like most young boys, had a sick fascination with snakes. He was always catching them, half the time throwing them in my face, or dropping them down my shirt. Now we don't get rattlers out here, so none of it was really dangerous, just mildly terrifying. I remember once he left a California Kingsnake in my bed. I screamed when I first spotted it. I think I was about seven. Another time he dropped a rather large Rubber Boa on me. The boa decided my arm looked fun to wrap itself around. That one truly did terrify me. Thankfully his mom got it off of me before it cut off the circulation for any length of time."

"He sounds like he was a brat."

I chuckled softly. "He was. He's started to grow out of the worst of it in these last couple of years."

"And ice cream?"

"There used to be an old man that drove an ice cream truck around Forks every day. I don't remember what his real name was, but everyone called him Stu. He probably ran that same beat up ice cream truck in this town for over fifty years. He was overpriced, as is the way with those types of vehicles, but all us kids loved him. Usually it would take two or three of us to get enough money to buy just one ice cream cone. It was supposed to be a single scoop cone, but he'd always make it a double scoop for us, and then we'd share."

I smiled at the memories. "There was one flavor that Mike and I loved that very few of the other kids liked. It was a cherry nut ice cream. We'd share that two scoop cone religiously. Usually half the ice cream ended up on Mike's shirt... or mine." I frowned slightly. "Of course, Stu died a few years back, nobody took up the torch after he passed. Honestly, if I had to guess, that vehicle wouldn't pass an inspection and probably hadn't in years. I think the only reason he got away with driving it around was because Charlie never said anything about it."

"And Andrew?"

"Andrew was the cashier at the local gas station here for a long time. He did something a few years back. Having the bad luck that I tend to... I happened to be the one that witnessed it. I told Charlie. It made front page news at the time. It doesn't really matter though. I guess it's just hard to realize that so many of us didn't know what he was really like. Before it all went down, I liked the guy, he was always so friendly to everyone who came into the convenience store. I'm honestly more angry at myself than him, for being such a lousy judge of character."

"And what did he do?" His voice was harsh.

"Not tonight, alright?"

He didn't reply for a minute, before finally answering, "Okay."

I could tell he wasn't happy with my answer or his own acquiesce, but I wasn't ready to tell that story. I just wasn't.

"So can I ask some questions now?"

"I don't know, can you?"

I gave the side of his face a dirty look. "Why do you do it?" I said. "I still don't understand how you can work so hard to resist what you... _are._ Please don't misunderstand, of course I'm quite grateful that you do. I just don't see why you would bother in the first place."

He hesitated before answering. "That's a good question, and you are not the first one to ask it. The others – the majority of our kind who are quite content with our lot – they, too, wonder at how we live. But you see, just because we've been... dealt a certain hand... it doesn't mean that we can't choose to rise above – to conquer the boundaries of a destiny that none of us wanted. To try to retain whatever essential humanity we can."

I lay unmoving, locked in awed silence.

"Did you fall asleep?" he whispered after a few minutes.

"No."

"Is that all you were curious about?"

I rolled my eyes. "Not quite."

"What else do you want to know?"

"Why can you read minds – why only you? And Alice, seeing the future... why does that happen?"

I recognized as he shrugged in the darkness. "We don't really know. Carlisle has a theory... he believes that we all bring something of our strongest human traits with us into the next life, where they are intensified – like our minds, and our senses. He thinks that I must have already been very sensitive to the thoughts of those around me. And that Alice had some precognition, wherever she was."

"What did he bring into the next life, and the others?"

"Carlisle brought his compassion. Esme brought her ability to love passionately. Emmett brought his strength, Rosalie her... tenacity. Or you could call it pigheadedness," he chuckled. "Jasper is very interesting. He was quite charismatic in his first life, able to influence those around him to see things his way. Now he is able to manipulate the emotions of those around him – calm down a room of angry people, for example, or excite a lethargic crowd, conversely. It's a very subtle gift."

I considered the impossibilities he described, trying to take it in. He waited patiently while I thought.

"So where did it all start? I mean, Carlisle changed you, and then someone must have changed him, and so on..."

"Well, where did you come from? Evolution? Creation? Couldn't we have evolved in the same way as other species, predator and prey? Or, if you don't believe that all this world could have just happened on its own, which is hard for me to accept myself, is it so hard to believe that the same force that created the delicate angelfish with the shark, the baby seal and the killer whale, could create both our kinds together?"

"Let me get this straight – I'm the baby seal, right?"

"Right." He laughed.

I yawned involuntarily.

"I've answered your questions, now you should sleep," he insisted.

"I'm not sure if I can."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" I said too loudly.

He laughed, and then began to hum that same, unfamiliar lullaby; the voice of an archangel, soft in my ear.

More tired than I realized, exhausted from the long day of mental and emotional stress like I'd never felt before, I drifted to sleep as he pulled me into his cold arms.

* * *

 **AN:** As always, I enjoy reviews.


	16. Chapter 15 - The Cullens

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 15 – The Cullens**

The muted light of yet another cloudy day eventually woke me. I lay with my arm across my eyes, groggy and dazed. Something, a dream trying to be remembered, struggled to break into my consciousness. I moaned quietly, squeezing my eyes more tightly shut, hoping more sleep would come.

At least, I assumed it was the light coming from my window that had woke me, until Edward murmured in my ear, "I have to go get my Volvo and bring it. Your dad is, quite literally, waiting for my arrival."

I dropped my arm from my face to glare at him blearily. "Okay, go." My voice was an annoyed grumble. While it was true I was a morning person, I _hated_ being woke up.

He grinned, leaning down and kissing my forehead, murmuring softly, "I love you too." And then disappearing out my window before I could even blink.

He'd said, I love you _too_. What did _that_ mean? I concentrated hard to try and remember, and at first, nothing came, but I finally, vaguely remembered the dream I'd had. Edward and I had been in the meadow that we'd hiked to just yesterday and we'd been... kissing.

No, if I was honest, we'd been making out, me on top of him, gyrating softly. I remembered at one point telling him that I'd loved him in my dream. I sincerely hoped that was the only thing that had come out of my mouth while I'd been dreaming... the thought of what else he might have heard... I blushed furiously.

I was awake now though, so grumbling to myself, I got out of bed. For a moment, I stood in my room, uncertain what I wanted to do next. I could smell the scent of burning toast and coffee coming up from the first floor and through my closed door. I grimaced to myself.

Finally I went to my closet, pawing through my paltry selection of 'nice' clothes, ultimately settling on a dark blue blouse with a revealing v-neck and a tan knee-length skirt that I almost never wore. I quickly got ready in the bathroom before heading downstairs where Charlie was sitting at the kitchen table.

"Aren't you going fishing again today, dad?" I knew he was, because he wasn't working and he almost always fished when he wasn't working.

"Soon, figured I'd wait a little while before I started."

"You mean you figured you'd interrogate Edward before we go to his place."

"I have a right to determine if the boy my daughter is interested in is worth her time or not."

"I dated Tyler for two years, dad. You never once gave the third degree to him."

"You weren't serious about Tyler."

"So you'd rather I fool around and never actually fall in love?" I asked, using what he'd said against him.

"That isn't what I meant and you know it." He glowered at me.

"All I know is you just implied you'd rather I don't do serious relationships."

"Bella." There was a note of exasperation in his voice.

I got ready to say dad in the same exact tone, but there was a knock at the door. I spun around and practically skipped to the door. Even though Charlie's third degree was annoying, I couldn't resist how happy I was that Edward was back. I opened the door.

He smiled at me which I returned.

"Come on, Charlie's in the kitchen."

He chuckled at my slightly woebegone voice, passing me as we went into the kitchen.

"Hello, sir." His voice had the perfect note of respect for a parental authority. I once again hated him a little.

"Do you want some breakfast, Edward? I can make you some eggs," Charlie offered.

I narrowed my eyes at Charlie, mentally promising retribution if he embarrassed me.

"No, sir. I ate breakfast before I came. I'm an early riser."

"Okay, and you will be bringing my daughter back before any trip to Tacoma, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well then. I need to get out to go fishing."

I didn't know whether to be irate or grateful that he was done so quickly.

While Charlie got ready to go fishing and left, I poured myself a bowl of my preferred cereal, sitting down to eat. Edward sat down across from me after Charlie was gone.

"Is that any good?" he asked, eyeing my breakfast with a teasing look on his face. "Honestly, it doesn't look very appetizing."

"Well, it's no irritable grizzly..." I murmured, ignoring him when he glowered. "Are we really going to meet your family today?"

"Yes."

I gulped.

"Are you afraid now?" He sounded hopeful.

"Yes," I admitted; how could I deny it – he could see my eyes.

"Don't worry." He smirked. "I'll protect you."

"I'm not afraid of _them,_ " I explained. "I'm afraid they won't... like me. Won't they be, well, surprised that you would bring someone... like me... home to meet them? Do they know that I know about them?"

"Oh, they already know everything. They'd taken bets yesterday, you know –" he smiled, but his voice was harsh "– on whether I'd bring you back, though why anyone would bet against Alice, I can't imagine. At any rate, we don't have secrets in the family. It's not really feasible, what with my mind reading and Alice seeing the future and all that."

"And Jasper making you feel all warm and fuzzy about spilling your guts, don't forget that."

"You paid attention," he smiled approvingly.

"I've been known to do that every now and then." I grimaced. "So did Alice see me coming?"

His reaction was strange. "Something like that," he said uncomfortably, turning away so I couldn't see his eyes. I stared at him curiously.

After a pause that felt like it lasted far too long he finally said, "You should tell your dad that I'm your boyfriend."

"I think that's already been implied and is pretty obvious at this point."

"I'm not saying you're wrong... but until you come out and admit it he's going to be completely unrelenting towards making both of us uncomfortable every time I come over, which will quite likely be very often."

"Will you be?" I asked, suddenly anxious. "Will you really be here?"

"As long as you want me," he assured me.

"I'll always want you," I warned him. "Forever."

His breathing stopped and he slowly reached out to touch his fingertips to my cheek. His expression was unfathomable.

"Does that make you sad?" I asked.

He didn't answer. He stared into my eyes for an immeasurable period of time.

"Are you finished?" he finally asked.

I jumped up. "Yes." I paused momentarily. "Do I look decent?"

He murmured, "You are utterly indecent – no one should look so tempting, it's not fair."

"Tempting how?" I asked. "I can change..."

He sighed, shaking his head. "You are _so_ absurd." He stood up, coming over to me before he pressed his cool lips delicately to my forehead, and the room spun. The smell of his breath made it impossible to think.

"Shall I explain how you are tempting me?" he said. It was clearly a rhetorical question. His fingers traced slowly down my spine, his breath coming more quickly against my skin. My hands were limp on his chest, and I felt lightheaded again. He tilted his head slowly and touched his cool lips to mine, very carefully, parting them slightly.

And then I collapsed.

"Bella?" His voice was alarmed as he caught me and held me up.

"You... made... me... faint," I accused him dizzily.

" _What am I going to do with you?_ " he groaned in exasperation.

I laughed weakly, letting his arms support me while my head spun.

"So much for being good at everything," he sighed.

"Haven't you ever watched a good old fashioned romance? Women faint from good kisses all the time."

"Do you feel sick?" he asked, ignoring what I'd just said; he'd seen me like this before.

"No – that wasn't the same kind of fainting at all. I don't know what happened." I shook my head apologetically. "I think I forgot to breathe."

"I can't take you anywhere like this."

"I'm fine," I insisted. "Your family is going to think I'm insane anyway, what's the difference?"

He measured my expression for a moment. "I'm very partial to that color with your skin," he offered unexpectedly. I flushed with pleasure, and looked away.

"Look, I'm trying really hard not to think about what I'm about to do, so can we go already?" I asked.

"And you're worried, not because you're headed to meet a houseful of vampires, but because you think those vampires won't approve of you, correct?"

"That's right," I answered immediately, hiding my surprise at his casual use of the word.

He shook his head. "You're incredible."

I realized, as he drove out of the main part of town, once again too fast, that I had no idea where he lived. We passed over the bridge at the Calawah River, the road winding northward, the houses flashing past us growing farther apart, getting bigger. And then we were past the other houses altogether, driving through misty forest. I was trying to decide whether to ask or be patient, when he turned abruptly onto an unpaved road. It was unmarked, barely visible among the ferns. The forest encroached on both sides, leaving the road ahead only discernible for a few yards as it twisted, serpent-like, around the ancient trees.

And then, after a few miles, there was some thinning of the woods, and we were suddenly in a small meadow, or was it actually a lawn? The gloom of the forest didn't relent, though, for there were six primordial cedars that shaded an entire acre with their vast sweep of branches. The trees held their protecting shadow right up to the walls of the house that rose among them, making obsolete the deep porch that wrapped around the first story.

I didn't know what I had expected, but it definitely wasn't this. The house was timeless, graceful, and probably a hundred years old. It was painted a soft, faded white, three stories tall, rectangular and well proportioned. The windows and doors were either part of the original structure or a perfect restoration. The Volvo was the only car in sight. I could hear the river close by, hidden in the obscurity of the forest.

In spite of the different places I'd been around and about to near Forks, I'd never been here before. I'd remember a place like this if I'd ever seen it before.

"Wow."

"You like it?" He smiled.

"It... has a certain charm."

He tugged lightly on my hair and chuckled, getting out of the car.

He was on my side not even a second later. "Ready?" he asked, opening my door.

"Not even a little bit – let's go." I tried to laugh, but it seemed to get stuck in my throat. I smoothed my hair nervously, getting out myself.

"You look lovely." He took my hand easily, without thinking about it.

We walked through the deep shade up to the porch. I knew he could feel my tension; his thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of my hand.

He opened the door for me.

The inside was even more surprising, less predictable, than the exterior. It was very bright, very open, and very large. This must have originally been several rooms, but the walls had been removed from most of the first floor to create one wide space. The back, south-facing wall had been entirely replaced with glass, and, beyond the shade of the cedars, the lawn stretched bare to the wide river. A massive curving staircase dominated the west side of the room. The walls, the high-beamed ceiling, the wooden floors, and the thick carpets were all varying shades of white.

Waiting to greet us, standing just to the left of the door, on a raised portion of the floor by a spectacular grand piano, were Edward's parents.

I'd seen Dr. Cullen before, of course, yet I couldn't help but be struck again by his youth, his outrageous perfection. At his side was Esme, I assumed, the only one of the family I'd never seen before. She had the same pale, beautiful features as the rest of them. Something about her heart-shaped face, her billows of soft, caramel-colored hair, reminded me of the ingenues of the silent movie era. She was small, slender, yet less angular, more rounded than the others. They were both dressed casually, in light colors that matched the inside of the house. They smiled in welcome, but made no move to approach us. Trying not to frighten me, I guessed.

"Carlisle, Esme," Edward's voice broke the short silence, "This is Bella."

"You're very welcome, Bella." Carlisle's step was measured, careful as he approached me. He raised his hand tentatively, and I stepped forward to shake hands with him.

"It's nice to see you again, Dr. Cullen."

"Please, call me Carlisle."

"Carlisle." I grinned at him, my sudden confidence surprising me. I could feel Edward's relief at my side.

Esme smiled and stepped forward as well, reaching for my hand. Her cold, stone grasp was just as I expected.

"It's very nice to know you," she said sincerely.

"Thank you. I'm glad to meet you, too." And I was. It was like meeting a fairy tale – Snow White, in the flesh.

"Where are Alice and Jasper?" Edward asked, but no one answered, as they had just appeared at the top of the wide staircase.

"Hey, Edward!" Alice called enthusiastically. She ran down the stairs, a streak of black hair and white skin, coming to a sudden and graceful stop in front of me. Carlisle and Esme shot warning glances at her, but I liked it. It was natural – for her, anyway.

I didn't just mean because she was a vampire either. It was so obvious to me that she was just one of those people with an extremely bubbly and hyper personality.

"Hi, Bella!" Alice said, and she bounced forward to kiss my cheek. If Carlisle and Esme had looked cautious before, they now looked staggered. There was shock in my eyes, too, but I was also very pleased that she seemed to approve of me so entirely. I was startled to feel Edward stiffen at my side. I glanced at his face, but his expression was unreadable.

"You do smell nice, I never noticed before," she commented, to my extreme embarrassment.

No one else seemed to know quite what to say, and then Jasper was there – tall and leonine. A feeling of ease spread through me, and I was suddenly comfortable despite where I was. Edward stared at Jasper, raising one eyebrow, and I remembered what Jasper could do.

"Hello, Bella," Jasper said. He kept his distance, not offering to shake my hand. But it was impossible to feel awkward near him.

"Hello, Jasper." I smiled at him shyly, and then at the others. "It's nice to meet you all – you have a very beautiful home," I added conventionally.

"Thank you," Esme said. "We're so glad that you came." She spoke with feeling, and I realized that she thought I was brave.

I also realized that Rosalie and Emmett were nowhere to be seen, and I remembered Edward's all too innocent denial when I'd asked him if the others didn't like me.

Carlisle's expression distracted me from this train of thought; he was gazing meaningfully at Edward with an intense expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward nod once.

I looked away, trying to be polite. My eyes wandered again to the beautiful instrument on the platform by the door. I suddenly remembered my youth when Charlie, thinking I'd needed to learn how to play an instrument, had put me through lessons. It had lasted just about a year before I'd gotten fed up with it and whined until I convinced him to let me quit. I was pretty sure that I could still play Marry Had a Little Lamb, Hot Cross Buns and possibly Chopsticks. Past that though... Nothing

Esme noticed my preoccupation.

"Do you play?" she asked, inclining her head toward the piano.

I shook my head. "Not at all. But it's so beautiful. Is it yours?"

"No," she laughed. "Edward didn't tell you he was musical?"

"No." I glared at his suddenly innocent expression with narrowed eyes. "I should have known, I guess."

Esme raised her delicate eyebrows in confusion.

"Edward can do everything, right?" I explained.

Jasper snickered and Esme gave Edward a reproving look.

"I hope you haven't been showing off – it's rude," she scolded.

"Just a bit." He laughed freely. Her face softened at the sound, and they shared a brief look that I didn't understand, though Esme's face seemed almost smug.

"He's been too modest, actually," I corrected.

"Well, play for her," Esme encouraged.

"You just said showing off was rude," he objected.

"There are exceptions to every rule," she replied.

"I'd like to hear you play," I volunteered.

"It's settled then." Esme pushed him toward the piano. He pulled me along, sitting me on the bench beside him.

He gave me a long, exasperated look before he turned to the keys.

And then his fingers flowed swiftly across the ivory, and the room was filled with a composition so complex, so luxuriant, it was impossible to believe only one set of hands played. I felt my chin drop, my mouth open in astonishment, and heard low chuckles behind me at my reaction.

Edward looked at me casually, the music still surging around us without a break, and winked. "Do you like it?"

"You wrote this?" I gasped, understanding.

He nodded. "It's Esme's favorite."

I closed my eyes, shaking my head.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm feeling extremely insignificant."

The music slowed, transforming into something softer, and to my surprise I detected the melody of his lullaby weaving through the profusion of notes.

"You inspired this one," he said softly. The music grew unbearably sweet.

I couldn't speak.

"They like you, you know," he said conversationally. "Esme especially."

I glanced behind me, but the huge room was empty now.

"Where did they go?"

"Very subtly giving us some privacy, I suppose."

I sighed. " _They_ like me. But Rosalie and Emmett..." I trailed off, not sure how to express my doubts.

He frowned. "Don't worry about Rosalie," he said, his eyes wide and persuasive. "She'll come around."

I pursed my lips skeptically. "Emmett?"

"Well, he thinks _I'm_ a lunatic, it's true, but he doesn't have a problem with you. He's trying to reason with Rosalie."

"What is it that upsets her?" I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer.

He sighed deeply. "Rosalie struggles the most with... with what we are. It's hard for her to have someone on the outside know the truth. And she's a little jealous."

" _Rosalie_ is jealous of _me_?" I asked incredulously. I tried to imagine a universe in which someone as breathtaking as Rosalie would have any possible reason to feel jealous of someone like me.

"You're human." He shrugged. "She wishes that she were, too."

"Oh," I muttered, still stunned. "Even Jasper, though..."

"That's really my fault," he said. "I told you he was the most recent to try our way of life. I warned him to keep his distance."

I thought about the reason for that, and shuddered.

"Esme and Carlisle...?" I continued quickly, to keep him from noticing.

"Are happy to see me happy. Actually, Esme wouldn't care if you had a third eye and webbed feet. All this time she's been worried about me, afraid that there was something missing from my essential makeup, that I was too young when Carlisle changed me... She's ecstatic. Every time I touch you, she just about chokes with satisfaction."

"Alice seems very... enthusiastic."

"Alice has her own way of looking at things," he said through tight lips.

"And you're not going to explain that, are you?"

A moment of wordless communication passed between us. He realized that I knew he was keeping something from me. I realized that he wasn't going to give anything away. Not now.

"So what was Carlisle telling you before?"

His eyebrows pulled together. "You noticed that, did you?"

I shrugged. "Of course."

He looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds before answering. "He wanted to tell me some news – he didn't know if it was something I would share with you."

"Will you?"

"I have to, because I don't want us going to Tacoma currently, for the sake of your safety – and I wouldn't want you to think I'm naturally a tyrant like this."

"Why?" I didn't say I wasn't going to go though.

"Alice just sees some visitors in that area."

"Visitors?"

"Yes... well, they aren't like us, of course – in their hunting habits, I mean. They probably won't even go into the city itself, but I'm certainly not going to risk your life by going there until they're gone."

I shivered.

"Finally, a rational response!" he murmured. "I was beginning to think you had no sense of self preservation at all."

I let that one pass, looking away, my eyes wandering again around the spacious room.

He followed my gaze. "Not what you expected, is it?" he asked, his voice smug.

"No," I admitted.

"No coffins, no piled skulls in the corners; I don't even think we have cobwebs... what a disappointment this must be for you," he continued slyly.

I ignored his teasing. "It's so light... so open."

He was more serious when he answered. "It's the one place we never have to hide."

The song he was still playing, my song, drifted to an end, the final chords shifting to a more melancholy key. The last note hovered poignantly in the silence.

"Thank you," I murmured. I realized there were tears in my eyes. I dabbed at them, embarrassed.

He touched the corner of my eye, trapping one I missed. He lifted his finger, examining the drop of moisture broodingly. Then, so quickly I couldn't be positive that he really did, he put his finger to his mouth to taste it.

I looked at him questioningly, and he gazed back for a long moment before he finally smiled.

"Do you want to see the rest of the house?"

"No coffins?" I verified, the sarcasm in my voice not entirely masking the slight but genuine anxiety I felt.

He laughed, taking my hand, leading me away from the piano.

"No coffins," he promised.

We walked up the massive staircase, my hand trailing along the satin-smooth rail. The long hall at the top of the stairs was paneled with a honey-colored wood, the same as the floorboards.

"Rosalie and Emmett's room... Carlisle's office... Alice's room..." He gestured as he led me past the doors.

He would have continued, but I stopped dead at the end of the hall, staring incredulously at the ornament hanging on the wall above my head. Edward chuckled at my bewildered expression.

"You can laugh," he said. "It _is_ sort of ironic."

I didn't laugh. My hand raised automatically, one finger extended as if to touch the large wooden cross, its dark patina contrasting with the lighter tone of the wall. I didn't touch it, though I was curious if the aged wood would feel as silky as it looked.

"It must be very old," I guessed.

He shrugged. "Early sixteen-thirties, more or less."

I looked away from the cross to stare at him.

"Why do you keep this here?" I wondered.

"Nostalgia. It belonged to Carlisle's father."

"He collected antiques?" I suggested doubtfully.

"No. He carved this himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached."

I wasn't sure if my face betrayed my shock, but I returned to gazing at the simple, ancient cross, just in case. I quickly did the mental math; the cross was over three hundred and seventy years old.

The silence stretched on as I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept of so many years.

"Are you all right?" He sounded worried.

"How old is Carlisle?" I asked quietly, ignoring his question, still staring up.

"He just celebrated his three hundred and sixty-second birthday," Edward said. I looked back at him, a million questions in my eyes.

He watched me carefully as he spoke.

"Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though."

I kept my face composed, aware of his scrutiny as I listened. It was easier if I didn't try to believe.

"He was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died giving birth to him. His father was an intolerant man. As the Protestants came into power, he was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. He also believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves... and vampires." I grew very still at the word. I'm sure he noticed, but he went on without pausing.

"They burned a lot of innocent people – of course the real creatures that he sought were not so

easy to catch.

"When the pastor grew old, he placed his obedient son in charge of the raids. At first Carlisle was a disappointment; he was not quick to accuse, to see demons where they did not exist. But he was persistent, and more clever than his father. He actually discovered a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived.

"The people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course –" his brief laugh was darker now "– and waited where Carlisle had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually one emerged."

His voice was very quiet; I strained to catch the words.

"He must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. Carlisle heard him call out in Latin to the others when he caught the scent of the mob. He ran through the streets, and Carlisle – he was twenty-three and very fast – was in the lead of the pursuit. The creature could have easily outrun them, but Carlisle thinks he was too hungry, so he turned and attacked. He fell on Carlisle first, but the others were close behind, and he turned to defend himself. He killed two men, and made off with a third, leaving Carlisle bleeding in the street."

He paused. I could sense he was editing something, keeping something from me.

"Carlisle knew what his father would do. The bodies would be burned – anything infected by the monster must be destroyed. Carlisle acted instinctively to save his own life. He crawled away from the alley while the mob followed the fiend and his victim. He hid in a cellar, buried himself in rotting potatoes for three days. It's a miracle he was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered.

"It was over then, and he realized what he had become."

I'm not sure what my face was revealing, but he suddenly broke off.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I assured him. And, though I bit my lip in hesitation, he must have seen the curiosity burning in my eyes.

He smiled. "I expect you have a few more questions for me."

"A few."

His smile widened over his brilliant teeth. He started back down the hall, pulling me along by the hand. "Come on, then," he encouraged. "I'll show you."


	17. Chapter 16 - Carlisle

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 16 - Carlisle**

He led me back to the room that he'd pointed out as Carlisle's office. He paused outside the door for an instant.

"Come in," Carlisle's voice invited.

Edward opened the door to a high-ceilinged room with tall, west-facing windows. The walls were paneled again, in a darker wood – where they were visible. Most of the wall space was taken up by towering bookshelves that reached high above my head and held more books than I'd ever seen outside a library.

Carlisle sat behind a huge mahogany desk in a leather chair. He was just placing a bookmark in the pages of the thick volume he held. The room was how I'd always imagined a college dean's would look – only Carlisle looked too young to fit the part.

"What can I do for you?" he asked us pleasantly, rising from his seat.

"I wanted to show Bella some of our history," Edward said. "Well, your history, actually."

"We didn't mean to disturb you," I apologized.

"Not at all. Where are you going to start?"

"The Waggoner," Edward replied, placing one hand lightly on my shoulder and spinning me around to look back toward the door we'd just come through. Every time he touched me, in even the most casual way, my heart had an audible reaction. It was more embarrassing with Carlisle there.

The wall we faced now was different from the others. Instead of bookshelves, this wall was crowded with framed pictures of all sizes, some in vibrant colors, others dull monochromes. I searched for some logic, some binding motif the collection had in common, but I found nothing in my hasty examination.

Edward pulled me toward the far left side, standing me in front of a small square oil painting in a plain wooden frame. This one did not stand out among the bigger and brighter pieces; painted in varying tones of sepia, it depicted a miniature city full of steeply slanted roofs, with thin spires atop a few scattered towers. A wide river filled the foreground, crossed by a bridge covered with structures that looked like tiny cathedrals.

"London in the sixteen-fifties," Edward said.

"The London of my youth," Carlisle added, from a few feet behind us. I flinched; I hadn't heard him approach. Edward squeezed my hand.

"Will _you_ tell the story?" Edward asked. I twisted a little to see Carlisle's reaction.

He met my glance and smiled. "I would," he replied. "But I'm actually running a bit late. The hospital called this morning – Dr. Snow is taking a sick day. Besides, you know the stories as well as I do," he added, grinning at Edward now.

It was a strange combination to absorb – the everyday concerns of the town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion of his early days in seventeenth-century London.

It was also unsettling to know that he spoke aloud only for my benefit.

After another warm smile for me, Carlisle left the room.

I stared at the little picture of Carlisle's hometown for a long moment.

"What happened then?" I finally asked, staring up at Edward, who was watching me. "When he realized what had happened to him?"

He glanced back to the paintings, and I looked to see which image caught his interest now. It was a larger landscape in dull fall colors – an empty, shadowed meadow in a forest, with a craggy peak in the distance.

"When he knew what he had become," Edward said quietly, "He rebelled against it. He tried to destroy himself. But that's not easily done."

"How?" I didn't mean to say it aloud, but the word broke through my shock.

"He jumped from great heights," Edward told me, his voice impassive. "He tried to drown himself in the ocean... but he was young to the new life, and very strong. It is amazing that he was able to resist... feeding... while he was still so new. The instinct is more powerful then, it takes over everything. But he was so repelled by himself that he had the strength to try to kill himself with starvation."

"Is that possible?" My voice was faint.

"No, there are very few ways we can be killed."

I opened my mouth to ask, but he spoke before I could.

"So he grew very hungry, and eventually weak. He strayed as far as he could from the human populace, recognizing that his willpower was weakening, too. For months he wandered by night, seeking the loneliest places, loathing himself.

"One night, a herd of deer passed his hiding place. He was so wild with thirst that he attacked without a thought. His strength returned and he realized there was an alternative to being the vile monster he feared. Had he not eaten venison in his former life? Over the next months his new philosophy was born. He could exist without being a demon. He found himself again.

"He began to make better use of his time. He'd always been intelligent, eager to learn. Now he had unlimited time before him. He studied by night, planned by day. He swam to France and –"

"He _swam_ to France?"

"People swim the Channel all the time, Bella," he reminded me patiently.

"That's true, I guess. It just sounded funny in that context. Go on."

"Swimming is easy for us –"

"Everything is easy for _you,_ " I griped.

He waited, his expression amused.

"I won't interrupt again, I promise."

He chuckled darkly, and finished his sentence. "Because, technically, we don't need to breathe."

"You –"

"No, no, you promised." He laughed, putting his cold finger lightly to my lips. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"You can't spring something like that on me, and then expect me not to say anything," I mumbled against his finger.

He lifted his hand, moving it to rest against my neck. The speed of my heart reacted to that, but I persisted.

"You don't have to _breathe_?" I demanded.

"No, it's not necessary. Just a habit." He shrugged.

"How long can you go... without _breathing_?"

"Indefinitely, I suppose; I don't know. It gets a bit uncomfortable – being without a sense of smell."

"A bit uncomfortable," I echoed.

I wasn't paying attention to my own expression, but something in it made him grow somber. His hand dropped to his side and he stood very still, his eyes intent on my face. The silence lengthened. His features were immobile as stone.

"What is it?" I whispered, touching his frozen face.

His face softened under my hand, and he sighed. "I keep waiting for it to happen."

"For what to happen?"

"I know that at some point, something I tell you or something you see is going to be too much. And then you'll run away from me, screaming as you go." He smiled half a smile, but his eyes were serious. "I won't stop you. I want this to happen, because I want you to be safe. And yet, I want to be with you. The two desires are impossible to reconcile..." He trailed off, staring at my face. Waiting.

"I'm not running anywhere," I promised.

"We'll see," he said, smiling again.

I frowned at him. "So, go on – Carlisle was swimming to France."

He paused, getting back into his story. Reflexively, his eyes flickered to another picture – the most colorful of them all, the most ornately framed, and the largest; it was twice as wide as the door it hung next to. The canvas overflowed with bright figures in swirling robes, writhing around long pillars and off marbled balconies. I couldn't tell if it represented Greek mythology, or if the characters floating in the clouds above were meant to be biblical.

"Carlisle swam to France, and continued on through Europe, to the universities there. By night he studied music, science, medicine – and found his calling, his penance, in that, in saving human lives." His expression became awed, almost reverent. "I can't adequately describe the struggle; it took Carlisle two centuries of torturous effort to perfect his self-control. Now he is all but immune to the scent of human blood, and he is able to do the work he loves without agony. He finds a great deal of peace there, at the hospital..." Edward stared off into space for a long moment. Suddenly he seemed to recall his purpose. He tapped his finger against the huge painting in front of us.

"He was studying in Italy when he discovered the others there. They were much more civilized and educated than the wraiths of the London sewers."

He touched a comparatively sedate quartet of figures painted on the highest balcony, looking down calmly on the mayhem below them. I examined the grouping carefully and realized, with a startled laugh, that I recognized the golden-haired man.

"Solimena was greatly inspired by Carlisle's friends. He often painted them as gods," Edward chuckled. "Aro, Marcus, Caius," he said, indicating the other three, two black-haired, one snowy-white. "Nighttime patrons of the arts."

"What happened to them?" I wondered aloud, my fingertip hovering a centimeter from the figures on the canvas.

"They're still there." He shrugged. "As they have been for who knows how many millennia. Carlisle stayed with them only for a short time, just a few decades. He greatly admired their civility, their refinement, but they persisted in trying to cure his aversion to 'his natural food source,' as they called it. They tried to persuade him, and he tried to persuade them, to no avail. At that point, Carlisle decided to try the New World. He dreamed of finding others like himself. He was very lonely, you see.

"He didn't find anyone for a long time. But, as monsters became the stuff of fairy tales, he found he could interact with unsuspecting humans as if he were one of them. He began practicing medicine. But the companionship he craved evaded him; he couldn't risk familiarity.

"When the influenza epidemic hit, he was working nights in a hospital in Chicago. He'd been turning over an idea in his mind for several years, and he had almost decided to act – since he couldn't find a companion, he would create one. He wasn't absolutely sure how his own transformation had occurred, so he was hesitant. And he was loath to steal anyone's life the way his had been stolen. It was in that frame of mind that he found me. There was no hope for me; I was left in a ward with the dying. He had nursed my parents, and knew I was alone. He decided to try..."

His voice, nearly a whisper now, trailed off. He stared unseeingly through the west windows. I wondered which images filled his mind now, Carlisle's memories or his own. I waited quietly.

When he turned back to me, a gentle angel's smile lit his expression.

"And so we've come full circle," he concluded.

"Have you always stayed with Carlisle, then?" I wondered.

"Almost always." He put his hand lightly on my waist and pulled me with him as he walked through the door. I stared back at the wall of pictures, wondering if I would ever get to hear the other stories.

Edward didn't say any more as we walked down the hall, so I asked, "Almost?"

He sighed, seeming reluctant to answer. "Well, I had a typical bout of rebellious adolescence – about ten years after I was... born... created, whatever you want to call it. I wasn't sold on his life of abstinence, and I resented him for curbing my appetite. So I went off on my own for a time."

"Hmmm," I said softly. I didn't want to sound intrigued because I was getting almost too used to his reactions to when I did something he thought wasn't right.

I vaguely realized that we were headed up the next flight of stairs, but I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings.

"That doesn't repulse you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"We've already been over that conversation, haven't we? I can't even really say that doing that was murder"

He shook his head, his lips thinning into a tight line. We were at the top of the stairs now, in another paneled hallway.

"From the time of my new birth," he murmured, "I had the advantage of knowing what everyone around me was thinking, both human and non-human alike. That's why it took me ten years to defy Carlisle – I could read his perfect sincerity, understand exactly why he lived the way he did.

"It took me only a few years to return to Carlisle and recommit to his vision. I thought I would be exempt from the... depression... that accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl – if I saved her, then surely I wasn't so terrible."

I shivered, imagining only too clearly what he described – the alley at night, the frightened girl, the dark man behind her. And Edward, Edward as he hunted, terrible and glorious as a young god, unstoppable. Would she have been grateful, that girl, or more frightened than before?

"But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn't escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. And I went back to Carlisle and Esme. They welcomed me back like the prodigal. It was more than I deserved."

We'd come to a stop in front of the last door in the hall.

"My room," he informed me, opening it and pulling me through.

His room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below. The whole back side of the house must be glass. His view looked down on the winding Sol Duc River, across the untouched forest to the Olympic Mountain range. The mountains were much closer than I would have believed.

The western wall was completely covered with shelf after shelf of CDs. His room was better stocked than a music store. In the corner was a sophisticated-looking sound system, the kind I was afraid to touch because I'd be sure to break something. There was no bed, only a wide and inviting black leather sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden carpet, and the walls were hung with heavy fabric in a slightly darker shade.

"Good acoustics?" I guessed.

He chuckled and nodded.

He picked up a remote and turned the stereo on. It was quiet, but the soft jazz number sounded like the band was in the room with us. I went to look at his mind-boggling music collection.

"How do you have these organized?" I asked, unable to find any rhyme or reason to the titles.

He wasn't paying attention.

"Ummm, by year, and then by personal preference within that frame," he said absently.

I turned, and he was looking at me with a peculiar expression in his eyes.

"What?"

"I was prepared to feel... relieved. Having you know about everything, not needing to keep secrets from you. But I didn't expect to feel more than that. I _like_ it. It makes me... happy." He shrugged, smiling slightly.

"I'm glad," I said, smiling back. I'd worried that he might regret telling me these things. It was good to know that wasn't the case.

But then, as his eyes dissected my expression, his smile faded and his forehead creased.

"You're still waiting for the running and the screaming, aren't you?" I guessed.

A faint smile touched his lips, and he nodded.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but you're really not as scary as you think you are. I don't find you scary at all, actually," I lied casually.

He stopped, raising his eyebrows in blatant disbelief. Then he flashed a wide, wicked smile. "You _really_ shouldn't have said that," he chuckled.

He growled, a low sound in the back of his throat; his lips curled back over his perfect teeth. His body shifted suddenly, half-crouched, tensed like a lion about to pounce.

I backed away from him, glaring.

"You wouldn't."

I didn't see him leap at me – it was much too fast. I only found myself suddenly airborne, and then we crashed onto the sofa, knocking it into the wall. All the while, his arms formed an iron cage of protection around me – I was barely jostled. But I still was gasping as I tried to right myself.

He wasn't having that. He curled me into a ball against his chest, holding me more securely than iron chains. I glared at him in alarm, but he seemed well in control, his jaw relaxed as he grinned, his eyes bright only with humor.

"You were saying?" he growled playfully.

"That you are a very, very terrifying monster," I said, my sarcasm marred a bit by my breathless voice.

"Much better," he approved.

"Um." I struggled. "Can I get up now?"

He didn't and as I struggled a little to get free, something changed. The electricity and the tension between us reappeared. I struggled to breath for a whole different reason as his eyes darkened ever so slightly. His lips came down on mine and I pressed my lips tightly shut against every instinct wanting me to kiss him back, all because I didn't want him to pull back.

My hands though, did not obey my command, reaching up and entangling themselves in his hair – and I knew in my mind, that if I could get one of my legs free, I'd rub the back of my heel against the back of his leg.

Before I could even try, a voice interrupted, "Can we come in?"

I struggled to free myself, but Edward merely readjusted me so that I was somewhat more conventionally seated on his lap. I could see it was Alice, then, and Jasper behind her in the doorway.

My cheeks burned, but Edward seemed at ease.

"Go ahead." Edward was still chuckling quietly.

Alice seemed to find nothing unusual in our embrace; she walked – almost danced, her movements were so graceful – to the center of the room, where she folded herself sinuously onto the floor. Jasper, however, paused at the door, his expression a trifle shocked. He stared at Edward's face, and I wondered if he was tasting the atmosphere with his unusual sensitivity.

"It sounded like you were having Bella for lunch, and we came to see if you would share," Alice announced.

I stiffened for an instant, until I realized Edward was grinning – whether at her comment or my response, I couldn't tell.

"Sorry, I don't believe I have enough to spare," he replied, his arms holding me recklessly close.

"Actually," Jasper said, smiling despite himself as he walked into the room, "Alice says there's going to be a real storm tonight, and Emmett wants to play ball. Are you game?"

The words were all common enough, but the context confused me. I gathered that Alice was a bit more reliable than the weatherman, though.

Edward's eyes lit up, but he hesitated.

"Of course you should bring Bella," Alice chirped. I thought I saw Jasper throw a quick glance at her.

"Do you want to go?" Edward asked me, excited, his expression vivid.

"Sure," I said aloud, because I knew I'd love to do anything he wanted me there for, and yet I also knew I wasn't going to go.

"We have to wait for thunder to play ball – you'll see why," he promised.

"Will I need an umbrella?" I tried to see how to add an unscheduled game into my plans, because no matter what Edward's fears were, I was still going to Tacoma. I wasn't seeing how to add enough hours into my day. Still I wanted to be there.

They all three laughed aloud.

"Will she?" Jasper asked Alice.

"No." She was positive. "The storm will hit over town. It should be dry enough in the clearing."

"Good, then." The enthusiasm in Jasper's voice was catching, naturally. I found myself eager, rather than scared stiff.

"Let's go see if Carlisle will come." Alice bounded up and to the door in a fashion that would break any ballerina's heart.

"Like you don't know," Jasper teased, and they were swiftly on their way. Jasper managed to inconspicuously close the door behind them.

"What will we be playing?" I demanded.

" _You_ will be watching," Edward clarified. "We will be playing baseball."

I closed my eyes. In my heart, I knew I wouldn't be watching. I'd be driving to Tacoma by myself instead. "Vampires like baseball?"

"It's the American pastime," he said with mock solemnity.

* * *

 **AN:** Not much was changed in the chapter, but we are obviously revving up to some major changes for the next ones.


	18. Chapter 17 - My Future

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 17 – My Future**

It was just beginning to drizzle when Edward turned onto my street. Up until that moment, I'd been trying to determine the best way to get Edward to leave so I could make my escape.

It turned out I needn't have worried, because there was a black car, a weathered Ford, parked in Charlie's driveway.

Beside me, Edward muttered something unintelligible in a low, harsh voice.

Leaning away from the rain under the shallow front porch, Jacob Black stood behind his father's wheelchair. Billy's face was impassive as stone as Edward parked his car against the curb. Jacob stared down, his expression mortified.

Edward's low voice was furious. "This is crossing the line."

"He came to convince Charlie that he wasn't smoking peyote the first time he tried to get my dad to drive you guys out of town?" I guessed, more horrified than angry.

Edward just nodded, answering Billy's gaze through the rain with narrowed eyes.

I felt weak with relief that Charlie wasn't home yet.

"Let me deal with this," I suggested. Edward's black glare made me anxious.

To my surprise, he agreed. "That's probably best. Be careful, though. The child has no idea."

I bridled a little at the word _child_ ,even if that was how I saw him, myself _._ "Jacob is not that much younger than I am," I reminded him.

He looked at me then, his anger abruptly fading. "Oh, I know," he assured me with a grin.

I sighed and put my hand on the door handle.

"Get them inside," he instructed, "and I'll leave. I'll be back around dusk."

"Okay." I opened the car door, preparing to get out. I looked back at Edward.

He smiled the crooked smile that I loved. "I'll be back soon," he promised. His eyes flickered back to the porch, and then he leaned in to swiftly kiss me just under the edge of my jaw before his lips slowly moved even farther down and kissed my throat as well. My heart lurched frantically, and I, too, glanced toward the porch. Billy's face was no longer impassive, and his hands clutched at the armrests of his chair.

Edward pulled back, saying something under his breath I didn't quite catch.

I unsteadily got out of his car, shutting the door behind me.

I could feel his eyes on my back as I half-ran through the light sprinkle toward the porch.

"Hey, Billy. Hi, Jacob." I greeted them as cheerfully as I could manage. "Charlie's gone for the day – I hope you haven't been waiting long."

"Not long," Billy said in a subdued tone. His black eyes were piercing. "I just wanted to bring this up." He indicated a brown paper sack resting in his lap that I recognized as carrying Harry's homemade fish fry.

"Thanks," I said. "Why don't you come in for a minute and dry off?"

I pretended to be oblivious to his intense scrutiny as I unlocked the door, and waved them in ahead of me.

"Here, let me take that," I offered, turning to shut the door. I allowed myself one last glance at Edward. He was watching me from his car, perfectly still, his eyes solemn.

"I'll just go put this in the fridge. I was running low and he's bound to bring home more tonight."

"Fishing again?" Billy asked with a subtle gleam in his eye. "Down at the usual spot? Maybe I'll run by and see him."

"No," I quickly lied, my face going hard. "He was headed someplace new... but I have no idea where."

He took in my changed expression, and it made him thoughtful.

"Jake," he said, still appraising me. "Why don't you go get that new picture of Rebecca out of the car? I'll leave that here, too."

"Where is it?" Jacob asked, his voice morose. I glanced at him, but he was staring at the floor, his eyebrows pulling together.

"I think I saw it in the trunk," Billy said. "You may have to dig for it."

Jacob slouched back out into the rain.

Billy and I faced each other in silence. After a few seconds, the quiet started to feel awkward, so I turned and headed to the kitchen. I could hear his wet wheels squeak against the linoleum as he followed.

I shoved the bag onto the crowded top shelf of the fridge, and spun around to confront him. His deeply lined face was unreadable.

"Charlie won't be back for a long time." My voice was almost rude.

He nodded in agreement, but said nothing.

"Thanks again for the fish fry," I hinted.

He continued nodding. I sighed and folded my arms across my chest.

He seemed to sense that I had given up on small talk. "Bella," he said, and then he hesitated. I waited.

"Bella," he said again, "Charlie is one of my best friends."

"Yes."

He spoke each word carefully in his rumbling voice. "I noticed you've been spending time with one of the Cullens."

"Yes," I repeated curtly.

His eyes narrowed. "Maybe it's none of my business, but I don't think that is such a good idea."

"You're right," I agreed. "It _is_ none of your business."

He raised his graying eyebrows at my tone. "The Cullen family has an unpleasant reputation on the reservation."

"I know," I informed him in a hard voice. This surprised him. "But that reputation couldn't be deserved, could it? Because the Cullens never set foot on the reservation, do they?" I could see that my less than subtle reminder of the agreement that both bound and protected his tribe pulled him up short.

"That's true," he acceded, his eyes guarded. "You seem... well informed about the Cullens. More informed than I expected."

I stared him down. "Maybe even better informed than you are."

He pursed his thick lips as he considered that. "Maybe," he allowed, but his eyes were shrewd. "Is Charlie as well informed?"

He had found the weak chink in my armor.

"Charlie likes the Cullens a lot," I hedged. He clearly understood my evasion. His expression was unhappy, but unsurprised.

"It's not my business," he said. "But it may be Charlie's."

"Though it would be my business, again, whether or not I think that it's Charlie's business, right?"

I wondered if he even understood my confused question as I struggled not to say anything compromising. But he seemed to. He thought about it while the rain picked up against the roof, the only sound breaking the silence.

"Yes," he finally surrendered. "I guess that's your business, too."

I sighed with relief. "Thanks, Billy."

"Just think about what you're doing, Bella," he urged.

"Okay," I agreed quickly.

He frowned. "What I meant to say was, don't do what you're doing."

I looked into his eyes, filled with nothing but concern for me, and there was nothing I could say.

Just then the front door banged loudly, and I jumped at the sound.

"There's no picture anywhere in that car." Jacob's complaining voice reached us before he did. The shoulders of his shirt were stained with the rain, his hair dripping, when he rounded the corner.

"Hmm," Billy grunted, suddenly detached, spinning his chair around to face his son. "I guess I left it at home."

Jacob rolled his eyes dramatically. "Great."

"Well, Bella, tell Charlie –" Billy paused before continuing "– that we stopped by, I mean."

"I will," I muttered.

Jacob was surprised. "Are we leaving already?"

In spite of myself, the courteous host in me kicked in. "You guys might as well stay. I'll make supper and you guys can watch Sunday night football with Charlie once he gets back. Keep him company. As I'm going to be leaving for Tacoma shortly after he gets here." I didn't say _as long as you keep your mouth shut_ , but I was staring hard enough at the back of Billy's head, I was sure he could feel what I wasn't saying.

Billy's hand went up, rubbing his chin, I was sure. Even though I couldn't see it. "Sure, sounds like a plan."

"Hey Jake, I got a cool dream-catcher that I hung up in my room a few days ago. There's also a paper bag in my luggage container. It has something my mom bought for you while we were in Panama. Why don't you go on up and check it out?" Unlike with Billy, everything I'd said to get him to go away for a minute had been completely true. Well the pair of boxers that my mom had bought me to give to 'my next boyfriend' as a gag gift hadn't actually been for Jacob, but I was relatively certain he was the right size and I knew he'd get a kick out of them.

Jacob looked at me suspiciously for a minute but then just shrugged and headed on up the stairs.

"If you so much as think of mentioning what the Cullens are to Charlie again, then I'll tell my dad a tale about nudists who turn into giant wolves. Are we clear, Billy?" I said softly so it wouldn't carry up to Jacob, but concisely enough that I was sure he'd understand exactly what I meant.

I saw Billy's fists clench. "We're clear."

"Good. Then go ahead and head into the living room. There's probably a pre-game on or something. I'll start working on supper."

After Billy rolled himself out into the living room, I pulled a set of minute steaks out of the freezer, throwing them in the microwave to defrost so I could make chicken fried steaks for everyone.

A couple minutes later, Jacob came down the stairs, holding the paper bag. "Where did you find these?" He pulled the boxers out. The boxers would have been completely innocuous, made of a simple black silk, if it weren't for the dozens of smiling suns that were designed on them.

"I can't even remember, some stand down in Panama. Mom kept on trying to get me to buy bikinis and lingerie and _stuff_. I needed relief from it all. Besides, it totally works for you."

He laughed, stuffing them back into the bag. He knew what I was talking about, of course. He'd always had a sunny disposition, as the saying went.

I pulled out some onions and a knife, wiggling both at him. "You staying in here to help? Or are you going to watch tv with your dad?"

He looked at the onions with wide eyes and then shook his head wildly.

"Chicken," I said under my breath as he made a dash to the living room.

Just as I was almost down making supper, the phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Bella? It's me," Jessica said.

"Oh, hey, Jess." I scrambled for a moment to remember why she might be calling. It felt like months rather than days since I'd spoken to Jess. "How was the dance?"

"It was so much fun!" Jessica gushed. Needing no more invitation than that, she launched into a minute-by-minute account of the previous night. I _mmm_ 'd and _ahh_ 'd at the right places, but it wasn't easy to concentrate. Jessica, Mike, and the dance all seemed strangely irrelevant at the moment.

"Did you hear what I said, Bella?" Jess asked, irritated.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, Mike kissed me! Can you believe it?"

"That's wonderful, Jess," I said.

"So what did _you_ do yesterday?" Jessica challenged, still sounding bothered by my lack of attention. Or maybe she was upset because I hadn't asked for details.

"Nothing, really. I just hung around outside to enjoy the sun."

I heard the front door open.

"Did you ever hear anything more from Edward Cullen?"

I racked my brain for a believable lie before finally settling on the truth, albeit one irrelevant to her question. "Sorry, Jess. I have company over at the moment, and my dad just got home."

"Oh, okay. Never mind – we'll talk next week. See you in Trig."

"See ya, Jess." I hung up the phone.

"Hey, Dad," I said. "Where's the fish?"

"I put it out in the freezer."

"Okay. Billy and Jacob are here." I was sure he'd seen the car out front, so I wasn't sure why I said that. "And I'm making chicken fried steak and gravy over fried onions with mashed potatoes and green beans."

"Sounds good, Bell. I'll go say hi to Billy and Jacob."

I quickly finished the food and brought plates out to everyone. Once again, I found myself sitting on the floor at Jacob's feet. As we ate, and the game started going in earnest, I explained the new situation to my dad.

"Edward's family had plans to go play baseball tonight so he's staying home with them. I'm going to go ahead and pack a bag and head on down to Tacoma by myself as a result."

"Sure, Bell," Charlie said as Billy stared at me in suspicion.

I finished eating quickly as the game played on before I got up, briefly stopping and putting my plate in the sink before heading upstairs. I pulled out a small duffel bag to pack for my brief visit to Tacoma. I packed sensible clothes, making sure to bring a couple extra sets – just in case they were needed – before I packed the same top and bottom I'd worn to bed last night. I put both my checkbook and a small pile of cash that I had saved under my mattress – the money I had originally saved to buy a car – into my bag.

Then I went into the restroom and got the toiletries I'd need before I went back in my room. Finally, I put in both the taser and the pepper spray. I started to zip the bag up, but as a last minute thought I dropped in the nondescript white box my mom gave me.

I zipped it shut just as Jacob stepped in.

"So, why are you going down to Tacoma?" he asked, dropping down on my bed.

"Open house at the police academy."

"You're still on that? You can't even walk straight usually."

"Jacoooob." I narrowed my eyes at him threateningly.

He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. Five year plan and all that. Go to college and train under a runner until you get good at it. Yada, yada, yada."

"Three year plan. And I will follow through."

"I swear, Bella, you're too stubborn for your own good. You should accept your limitations and do something your actually good at."

"I'm quite good at finding trouble. Thank you very much."

He grinned widely. "No, trouble is good at finding _you_."

I sighed. "Well, I should get going." I got to my feet, reaching forward to grab my bag, but Jake beat me to it, picking it up for me.

He walked in front of me down the stairs and to the front door, opening it grandly, half bowing.

I laughed. "My hero." Before I left, I turned to the living room and waved at Charlie, but he wasn't paying attention, his eyes glued to the television. I rolled my eyes, heading outside.

When I reached the truck with Jacob by my side, he hefted up my bag, exaggerating it's weight. "In the cab or the box?"

"The cab," I said, opening the door.

He threw it into the passenger side.

"I'll see you on Thanksgiving." I reached forward, mussing up the top of his head.

"Hey! Not the hair!" He immediately started to try and smooth it out.

Grinning, I got into the truck and started the engine with a deafening roar as I slammed the door shut. I waved back at Jacob as I pulled out of my spot.

I turned the radio up as loud as it would go – fuzzy and muffled though it was – as I drove out of town. I headed away from Forks and away from Edward, heading toward my future.

. . .

I made it to the town of Queets before dusk finally set and couldn't help but wonder if Edward was at my house now, or if Alice had warned him I left. I also wondered if he was already following me, or if I was going to get away with my escape.

I loved that he cared, loved that he wanted to protect me, but I was no one's prisoner, least of all his. It was why I was driving as fast as my pickup would physically go. Except, I had to stop at the tiny gas station to fill up on gas.

As I went in to pay for the gas I was going to get, the phone rang and the attendant picked up the line.

To give him a moment to take care of whatever the person on the other end wanted, I turned towards the sparse snack options, grabbing a chocolate bar I like.

Just then, the attendant called out to me. "Are you Bella Swan?"

I turned around slowly. "Yes."

"An Edward Cullen is demanding I put you on. I can hang up though, if you'd prefer."

Well, that answered the question of if he knew where I was. "I'll take it." I stepped over to the register, holding my hand out for the phone.

The instant I had the phone at my ear, before I even spoke, Edward's voice was on the other end. "Turn around and come home, Bella."

"No. You may not get it, given that you never have to worry about the future the way I do, but this is a chance for me to get a jump start on my future. I can't live my life afraid of shadows in the dark, especially when those shadows most likely won't even be in the town. Your words, not mine."

"Bella, you either come back on your own, or I'm going to come get you and bring you back."

"I don't think so. This is my right to do this. If you disrespect that wish, Edward, my first conversation will be with my dad about filing a restraining order against you. Don't even think that I won't, because I assure you that I will."

"But –"

"But nothing. If you really care about me and respect me even a little bit, you will stay with your family and play baseball. You can join me in Tacoma in the morning or you can stay in Forks and accept that I'll be back in a few days. Those are your two options. I select you choose one, because any other choice will not end nicely." I handed the phone back. "I'm done."

I could hear Edward saying something even as the attendant hung up the phone. I paid for my candy bar and handed over the cash for the gas then I headed out to my truck, pumping in the gas.

. . .

I made two more stops on my way to Tacoma. One in Montesano and one in Olympia. The first thing I did when I arrived in Tacoma was stopped at a small diner on the outskirts, even though I wasn't that hungry. It had been a long drive and I needed some energy.

So I ordered a grilled cheese and fries, and a cup of coffee.

I drank my coffee in complete silence after it was brought to me, ignoring the other people in the diner – including the three rowdy people that came in shortly after me – my hands wrapped tightly around the cup. I felt chilled even though I knew, in my heart, that I wasn't really cold.

Eventually, my plate of food was placed in front of me, and I started to eat, but I wasn't able to enjoy it, my body and mind reacting to something unknown that I couldn't place, but when I looked around, I didn't see anything suspicious.

The diner was set up in the old fifties style, American classic. It was in a long trailer shaped building with checkerboard flooring, pink and blue booths, red leather stools, bubble glass windows, and walls with stainless steel so reflective you could see yourself in it. The diner was probably almost a hundred feet long.

There was the exhausted waitress that was manning the entire diner, a cook in the kitchen that I couldn't see but could hear as there was the sound of pots being banged down. Two booths behind me were five people, two girls and three guys, no older than college age, at the most. At the counter was a gentleman that was probably in his seventies or even eighties, drinking coffee and eating a slice of apple pie. And about halfway to the other end, was a young couple in a booth. Finally, at the very end, were the three people that came in shortly after me.

There were two guys and woman. The one guy looked like he should have been African or Caribbean, because he had long black dreadlocks that fell to the middle of his back, but what little I could see of his skin was pale white. He wore jeans that were either deliberately ripped, or had seen much better days. I couldn't see much of his shirt as he wore a hunter's vest over it, but the shirt had long sleeves.

The second male had short light brown hair. He wasn't all that tall or impressive to look at, even his simple plaid shirt and black jeans screamed plain. I wasn't sure he was deliberately trying to be invisible, or if that was just his normal way.

Finally, there was the woman. She was the most interesting of the three, with cascading orange red locks. She moved her shoulders and arms regularly almost as if she was anxious. I couldn't see her eyes as she faced away from me just like the two men, but I imagined she had emerald green eyes or perhaps sapphire blue. Her clothes were as nondescript as the second male.

They were laughing loud enough that I could hear them where I sat, but aside from them being obnoxious, they didn't seem to be bothering anything.

I shrugged off my worry and went back to eating.

I was about halfway through my fries when the man with the light brown hair sat down in the booth across from me.

I swallowed hard when I looked into his eyes.


	19. Chapter 18 - The Hunt

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **AN:** So, in this chapter Bella may seem quite a bit ooc compared to the Bella in the original Twilight. Just remember that my Bella grew up being raised by her dad. So she actually has a real backbone. She also understands criminology to some degree as she's been wanting to be a cop for years.

 **Chapter 18 – The Hunt**

Sitting in front of me was a man, who I'd initially assumed was just a rowdy drunk, with blood red eyes. I'd never seen eyes like his before, and yet, because of my time with Edward... I knew this man sitting in front of me was a vampire. Only this vampire didn't kill animals.

I resisted the urge to turn around and look behind me as an arm came over my booth. The arm was masculine, and as I looked at the skin, I realized it wasn't as pale as I'd originally thought, in fact, there was an olive undertone to the skin. I was sure it was the other man and that he'd once actually been black. Just as I was sure, if I looked in his eyes, that they'd be red just like the man sitting in front of me... Unless they were black.

Of course, I had to assume the woman with them was also a vampire.

"You look awfully young to be out here by yourself," the man in front of me spoke softly. His voice was pleasant, genially easy on the ears. It was the kind of voice you'd expect to hear in the background of a fancy perfume commercial.

And for all that, it took every ounce of my will not to flinch, because no matter how nice he was acting, I _knew_ exactly what he was.

"I'm here for fall break." I kept my voice level, not responding to the age comment.

"College then?" The surprise in his voice was genuine. "I would have suspected you were younger, but that's neither here nor there. My name's James, and my partners behind you are Laurent and Victoria. Tell me, are there others that look similar to me at this school you go to?"

I wasn't about to tell him I was younger than he believed. I also knew the proper response to his question. "Others that look like you?"

"Yes, pale skin and red eyed – you might consider them albinos."

In spite of the serious situation I was in, I almost laughed. He didn't honestly expect me to believe that, did he?

"Sorry, no. I've never met anyone with red eyes like yours before."

He tilted his head to the side, his nostrils flaring. It didn't even look remotely human. "Hmm, are you sure you've never met anyone similar to me. Perhaps someone relatively short, not even five foot tall, with spiky hair?"

I knew I shouldn't react, I _knew it_. And yet, I couldn't stop myself. "How the hell do you know Alice?"

"Is that what she's going by these days? When I knew her she went by Mary, or that was her first name anyways. I always make sure to always know the names of the people I'm interested in. Which does make me curious, what's your name?"

I didn't like the way he said _interested_. And as I looked at him, watching every nuance of his face, I recognized just how dangerously _interested_ he was in me. I may have teased Edward about stalking me, but this man, in front of me, was the definition of a stalker. Only he wasn't the lusty peeping tom type. He was the predatory type of stalker who sought out a thrill before finishing his victim off. If he was human, he'd be the kind that would rape and murder his victims in their bed. But he wasn't human. Still, the end result would be the same, I was sure. Death.

So I said the first name I could think of that wouldn't trace back to anyone alive, "Sarah Black." The blatant lie rolled off my tongue better than normal, but I worried he'd still know I was lying thanks to my heartbeat that I was sure he could hear.

If I figured out how to escape, I wanted a chance at survival, which was why I gave a name that had no _direct_ connection to me.

He arched an eyebrow at me. "Well, _Sarah_ –" the name rolled off his tongue in a way that sounded somewhere between blatant disbelief and sarcasm "– if that really is your name. Would you be so kind as to tell me where I might find this Alice? Perhaps we could even go outside and you could give me directions?" If he was a rattlesnake, I'd call it the kill strike, his eyes were hypnotic and his voice seductive as leaned slightly towards me.

Unfortunately for him, I already knew someone better at that type of seduction than him. "Why would I want to tell you anything?"

He actually sat back, which meant I'd surprised him. I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"Why are you so interested in Alice anyways?" I asked, my voice protective. I was hoping that Alice had a vision earlier of what was going on now as he'd clearly known her when she was human, and if she'd seen this, then maybe she'd have some answers.

"She was supposed to be mine, and then she slipped through my fingers. It's the only time it's ever happened. It's actually quite disappointing."

"But you don't really want her anymore, do you? After all, she doesn't have what you're after anymore." It was a bold statement, calling him out. But I currently had no escape and I knew it. Even if they let me get up and go outside, I knew I'd be dead before I made it to the truck. To me, that was obvious. So, all I could do was try to convince him to let me go. And to do that... he and I would both have to stop playing that he was human.

"And how would you know what I'm after?" He tilted his head the other was as he asked, and I shuddered slightly, in spite of my best efforts to keep my reaction to myself.

"Because she doesn't have blood," I said quietly before picking up a fry and bringing it to my mouth, eating it though I wasn't the least bit hungry anymore and my stomach roiled in discontent. There was one thing I absolutely didn't want though, and that was the waitress deciding there was something wrong and coming over to investigate. Therefore, I had to pretend everything was fine

I saw the surprise flash in his eyes before his lips lifted in some approximation of a grin. "So Sarah knows more than she's supposed to."

"And now that we have the fact that you aren't an _albino_ settled. Let me ask one question. Am I yours too?" I knew what I was asking, what I was suggesting, and the largest part of me was screaming inside my head to shut up and flee. But as I'd once told Edward, I was my father's daughter and the only things that went bump in the night were thieves, rapists, and murders. I happened to be surrounded by three of that last category – even if they didn't quite meet the technical definition. So I _knew_ there was no running. Not yet anyways.

His smile widened, showing teeth. It wasn't a pretty sight. I repressed the urge to shudder again. "Of course."

"As I thought," I murmured the words quietly as I looked down briefly, trying to keep from showing any sign of fear. I could be afraid later. I looked up at him from beneath my lashes. "Could I possibly earn my freedom?"

"And why would I do that when I already have you?"

"There's no challenge in it right now, I've seen how fast your kind can move so I know the three of you can kill everyone in this diner if you wanted and I wouldn't even have time to scream before you got back to me. In fact, if it was what you really wanted, you'd have already done it. But that's not what you want. I know you enjoy the game. The hunt. Don't even deny it. _I_ can give you that challenge." I knew the fire I was playing with, but I'd already confirmed I had nothing to lose.

His eyes glinted with what I could only surmise was avarice and curiosity. "Color me interested. Just what kind of challenge do you think you could give me?"

"Give me a head-start, and if you can't find me then I win my freedom. If you find me afterwards, then I'll let you kill me. However you find more enjoyable, be that me begging for you to do it, or me fighting back." I refused to break the stare between the two of us, wanting him to see I was deadly serious.

He stared back at me and I could feel the seconds ticking by as I waited for his response. Finally, he threw his head back and laughed. His laughter sent chills down my spine.

He looked back at me once he got done laughing. "I like your audacity. I'll give you your head-start, twenty-four hours to be exact. But there's something you should know. I'll be able to _track_ you down no matter where you go."

I didn't move, thinking over the way he'd said that one word.

"I'm not really one to offer such a courtesy but you have made me curious, so you better get going. Before I change my mind." He looked at my plate. "I'll pay for your meal."

I knew it was the best chance I was going to get so I hopped up and quickly walked to the door, going outside. When I looked in the windows of the diner, the other two had moved into the booth I'd been sitting in.

So far, they weren't following me.

I made the last few steps to my truck and got in, starting the engine.

I drove through Tacoma to the other end of the town, stopping at a gas station where I went in the store. It had been a couple of years, but I'd actually been in this gas station before and so I knew that they carried pre-paid phones which was exactly what I was after. I reached them and grabbed out a phone along with a card that had minutes, taking both over to the cashier. I paid for both along with some gas.

As I got out to the truck to pump the gas, I ripped the phone out of the package, inserting the package-promised, fully-charged battery and powering it up. I typed in the code found in the instructions to activate it after I finished filling the truck up, then I added the minutes to the phone as it texted me my phone number.

It wasn't until I got in my truck and started the engine to leave that I realized I didn't know Edward's cell or the Cullens home phone. So I turned the phone to the text message and stared at the phone number, hoping Alice would see me looking at it.

When it didn't ring immediately, I started driving south out of town, my intent was to head to Portland where I knew there was a 24-hour car rental and an airport. I knew I could use both and leave some sort of false trail.

I was a few miles out of town when my phone range. "Edward?"

"Bella, where are you going?" he demanded.

For once, I didn't care about his possessiveness. "Portland, and you can't follow me, Edward."

"I damn well can."

"Edward, you have to stay in Forks, where my dad will be able to see you. There's multiple reasons for that. Not the least of which is that I need you to break into my room and leave a sticky note on my pillow in my handwriting that says, _Just let me go, Charlie_. He assumes I'm going to be gone until Wednesday anyways, so he won't check my room until then, but if I can't come back by then, then I want him to know I'm gone and not coming back. With that, he'll know.

"But more than that, this vampire is looking for a thrill ride. You, as overly possessive of me that you are, will just make it that much more fun for him. If you want someone to help me then one of the others needs to come, but my personal recommendation is to just let me go on my own. I can beat him at this game of cat and mouse, his ego be damned."

"You can't possibly be sure of that," he shouted.

I understood that it was fear making him yell, it was the only reason I didn't hang up the phone in annoyance. "You're right. He was confident, especially when he said he could track me down anywhere. It is concerning to me, but I can't let myself think I'm going to lose or I will have lost, Edward."

"Well, tracking is technically what vampires do and you're human, even being smart –"

"No, Edward, you don't understand. He used the word track specifically. There was intent and implication behind the word. He could have said hunt or find or stalk or a dozen other words. They all would have worked, but he was very pointed with that word, like it meant something special. I'm assuming he expected to get a reaction from me by it, but I don't know enough about your world to understand the meaning. Do you understand it?"

It only took a moment before Edward started swearing colorfully, but suddenly his voice got quieter, as if he'd stepped away from the phone.

"One minute, Bella. You just keep on driving. We're going to figure out the best course of action here..." Or had the phone ripped from his hands, because that was Alice.

I was certain the phone was set down then, because I could hear voices in the background, though I couldn't hear much of what was actually being said.

At one point I heard the tail end of what Alice was saying "... discuss our other available options."

Edward's shouted reply was clear. "There are no other options."

There was another minute of conversation before Edward's voice finally came back on. It was strained. "Alice and Jasper are going to go down to meet you in Portland."

I didn't say it out loud, but I was secretly grateful that they were going to come help even though I'd recommended otherwise. "Okay."

"I'll leave your note the way you've asked and leave it in your room. Then Emmett and I are going to try finding and stopping these vampires before they even get close to you."

I didn't want him involved, but I was too far away to convince him to stay out of it. "Okay. I love you, Edward." I hung up the phone before he could reply and immediately dialed Sam's number.

It took a minute, but Sam finally answered the phone. "Who's this?" his voice was fuzzy with sleep.

"Sam, this is Bella. I need you to do me a favor. Keep an eye on Billy and Jacob for a couple of days."

He didn't reply right away, and when he did, his voice was a mix of alarm, mystification, and annoyance. In short, it was the Sam special, because he'd always been able to intone a ton of varying emotions into a few short words. "Bella, do you know what time it is? What's going on?"

"I just met some vampires, not the Cullens, the human hunting kind. They were interested in me and so when they asked my name, I told them it was Sarah Black. I'm sure they knew I was lying and I sincerely doubt they'll head your way, but I'm going to cover my bases here just in case."

"You need to come to La Push, Bella. _We_ can protect you." There was nothing but alarm this time.

"Can't do that. I'm heading south, just be sure and protect Jacob and Billy." I hung the phone up again and then turned the cell phone off.

I pushed the accelerator down, driving as hard as the truck would go.

* * *

 **AN:** The reason that Edward didn't show to save the day was because no one knew this was going to happen, and before Bella stopped at the diner Alice had seen that Bella would follow through and get the restraining order she said she would if he'd followed that night, so he was planning to wait until the morning to go there. Meanwhile, Alice didn't have a vision of Bella meeting James, Laurent and Victoria until it was practically happening, because Bella didn't decide to stop at the diner until the last minute. Tacoma is over three hours away at the speed limit, and even with the way Edward drives, it would have been impossible to get there before it happened.

Also, I'll be posting one more chapter in a few days and then I'm going to be taking a break from this story for probably a couple of weeks while I finish up one of my other stories, Death & Rebirth.


	20. Chapter 19 - The Drive

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 19 – The Drive**

Alice and Jasper were in the parking lot of the car rental facility with the black Mercedes when I pulled in. I blinked several times. I was quite certain that their car had never passed me on the interstate.

Finally, I shut the engine off and got out of the truck, heading over to them with my duffel bag. Jasper took it from me and put it in the trunk as Alice folded me in a hug.

"Edward told me to tell you that he loves you too," she said fiercely.

I let myself enjoy her protective hug for a moment, just closing my eyes, before I pulled back.

"He called you Mary, Alice."

"I know, I saw. I saw it all. Not that it does me a lot of good. I was turned in 1920, and though I'm not certain how old I was... anywhere between 15 and 20, I'm guessing... that means I was likely born at the turn of the twentieth century. Literally one of hundreds of thousands of girls who were named Mary. It would have been nice if he'd given you my surname too."

I grimaced. "Sorry, Alice. I should have fished more." I was a cop's daughter for god's sake. I should have tried to get that too.

"No," she said immediately, her eyes flashing. "You did exactly what you needed to get yourself away from him. Now, tell me of this plan of yours and why I see us spending time in a hotel in Los Angeles."

"My initial plan was to rent a car here then go to the airport and buy at least two tickets heading in different directions. One to Hawaii and one to Panama. Then I was going to continue my drive to Downy, CA and my house there. It's not a huge plan, but I figured it would give me time to figure out step two."

"You own a house in California?" Alice's eyes bugged out.

"Technically, no. It's part of my grandmother's estate. She left it to me for when I became an adult. So for now it's technically owned by the lawyers until I turn 18. But it's some place that I'm familiar with, so therefore there's places I figured I could get lost in. I mean I don't know the area as well as Forks, but I wasn't about to lead him back to my dad and my friends."

"Hmm." She was staring right at me, and yet it was obvious she wasn't seeing me. "No point in wasting the money on the plane tickets. He won't fall for it... But California will work. He won't be able to get around too easily, given how sunny it is. Of course, we won't be able to get around all that well either, but we can enjoy a retreat at a nice hotel. First though, we'll stop somewhere and get some shopping in."

"Errr... Alice. I don't really like shopping."

"Ridiculous. Everyone likes shopping."

I shook my head, but decided there were more pressing matters to discuss at the moment. "Edward said he was going to try to find and stop them before they got to us. How do you guys stop a sociopathic vampire?" I was pretty sure I knew how, but I wanted to hear them say it.

Alice and Jasper shared a look before Jasper calmly replied, "He'll kill him."

"How does someone kill a vampire?"

"The only way to be sure is to tear him to shreds, and then burn the pieces," Jasper's voice didn't change in the least. He was completely calm.

I almost asked if he was a war vet, but stopped myself because I had more pressing concerns. "And the other two will fight with him?"

Alice answered this time, "I see both him and Victoria coming after you, but I'm not sure about the third, Laurent."

I frowned. "I should have tried to talk to them, look at them, and then maybe I'd know more about where they fit into his world. But I didn't dare look away from James. He was, obviously, the leader."

Jasper looked at me curiously. "What do you mean?"

"He's a typical predatory stalker. It's not an uncommon criminal psyche, and sadly, stalking in pairs – especially in the form of a dominant and a submissive, like lovers or parent/child – is only becoming all the more common. But seeing three in a group, and especially when they're clearly not a family, that's almost completely unheard of. I'm not saying it's impossible... just that it doesn't fit normal patterns."

"Perhaps we should continue this conversation in the car," Alice said suddenly.

"They're nearby?" Jasper asked.

"No, so far those three are still in that all night diner she stopped to eat at, but since he doesn't seem inclined to rush after her, we should take advantage of it."

"He's cocky," I said softly. "He'll give me the full twenty-four hour head-start that he offered me." I walked over to the back of the Mercedes and got in the vehicle.

I was actually surprised when Jasper got in the driver's side and Alice in the passenger side, I'd have figured Alice too much of a micro-manager to let anyone else drive when it came to something like this.

. . .

Once we were inside the car and on the road I realized just how sleek the Mercedes was, black and powerful; its windows were tinted limo black. The engine purred like a great cat as we sped through the deep night.

Jasper drove one handed, carelessly it seemed, but the muscular car flew forward with perfect precision.

On the smooth highways, Jasper never drove the brawny car below a hundred and twenty miles per hour. He seemed utterly unaware of speed limits, but we never saw a patrol car. The only break in the monotony of the drive was the stop we made for fuel in Medford, OR, just before we headed into California. I noticed idly that Jasper went inside to pay cash.

Dawn began to break a little south of Redding, CA, and if we were driving the speed limit, we'd still have almost an entire day of driving to get to Los Angeles, but we weren't driving the speed limit. I watched with dry, stinging eyes as the gray light streaked across the cloudless sky. I was exhausted, but sleep had eluded me, my mind too full of fear – for Edward, for the Blacks who I'd unwittingly brought into this, and for my Dad – to relax into unconsciousness.

I knew we stopped for gas again somewhere around Sacramento, but by then I was mostly out of it. Alice was the one that got out of the car to fill it up. The gas station had a canopy and was heavily shaded, even so she had on a red full length coat that I hadn't noticed before.

After she got out, Jasper spoke, "You're wrong, you know," he said quietly.

"What?" I asked tiredly.

"I can feel what you're feeling now – and you _are_ worth it."

"I'm not," I mumbled. "If anything happens to any of you or my friends, because of me, it will be for nothing."

"You're wrong," he said again. He'd turned to face me and so I could see his gentle smile.

I felt a heavy lethargy come over me then, and fell asleep before my mind fully realized he was the one doing it.

. . .

When I woke up, it was to Alice shaking me awake in Bakersfield. By then, the sun was high in the sky, but Jasper pulled in to a parking garage just as I was starting to come to.

"You need to eat, Bella... Besides, shopping will be good for the soul."

I grumbled a handful of words that weren't very appropriate.

"What was that?" she asked, her voice amused.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing."

"That's what I thought." She smiled widely and opened the car door as Jasper parked. "Stay with the car," she instructed Jasper.

"Are you sure?" he sounded apprehensive.

"They're still in Tacoma," she said.

He nodded, consenting.

Alice took my hand and pulled me from the car. She held on to my hand, keeping me close by her side as we walked from the dark garage. She skirted the edge of the garage, keeping in the shadow. She looked ridiculous in the full length red coat that covered her almost completely. She had a ball cap on and sunglasses that made the outfit even more outrageous, but what little of her face and hands that were revealed, gleamed as the sun almost touched, so I understood why.

Even so, we were attracting the attention of people around us, and I heard the whispers wondering if she was someone famous... or just high as a kite.

"It's better than if I wasn't wearing it, trust me," she murmured.

Once we were inside, under the fluorescent lights of the mall, Alice pulled off the insane ensemble, folding the jacket over her arm and dumping both the cap and the glasses into a purse I hadn't noticed before. A few people who'd followed us in walked away grumbling once they realized she was merely a chalky pale girl with alert, but shadowed eyes and spiky black hair – and not someone famous as they'd surely hoped.

Several people still glanced our way. I wondered what they thought they were seeing. The delicate, dancing Alice, with her striking angel's face, dressed in thin, pale fabrics that didn't quite downplay her pallor enough, holding hands with me, obviously leading, as I shambled tiredly along beside her, my dull hair twisted into knots down my back.

Alice led me unerringly to the food court.

"What do you want to eat?"

Even though I knew I should eat, I wasn't the least bit hungry, so I told her as much. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be deterred, and I reluctantly requested a turkey sub.

While she went to get my food, I went to the restroom. Before I went back to the food court, I washed my face as well as my hands, starting to regret my decision to order something that wouldn't really satisfy the hunger that I was starting to feel.

When I got back to the food court I found Alice sitting at a table – a tray of Chinese food sitting in front of her. I blinked.

"I saw you determining that the sub wasn't really what you wanted about halfway through and decided to skip the foreplay," she said by way of explanation as I sat down.

As I'd never had Chinese food in front of her before and knew I'd never deliberately ask her to buy more while I was eating I had to wonder how she knew what to get me. When I voiced my query, she didn't reply, just shrugged her shoulders.

"I forgot to get you a soda. I'll be right back." She got up quickly.

After she got back with a coke, she watched me eat, slowly at first and then faster as my appetite fully made itself known.

"It's definitely more convenient, the food you eat," she commented as I finished. "But it doesn't seem like much fun."

"Hunting is more exciting, I imagine."

"You have no idea." She flashed a wide mouthful of glittering teeth, and several people's heads turned in our direction.

After throwing the trash away, she led me down the wide corridors of the mall, her eyes lighting now and then on something she wanted, hauling me along with her at each stop. She paused for a moment at an expensive boutique to buy three pairs of sunglasses, two women's and one men's. I noticed the clerk look at her with a new expression when she handed him an unfamiliar clear credit card with gold lines across it.

She found an accessories shop where she picked up a hairbrush and rubber bands.

But she didn't really get down to business until she towed me into the sort of store I never frequented, because the price for a pair of socks would be out of my league.

"You're about a size two." It was a statement, not a question.

She used me as a pack mule, loading me down with a staggering amount of clothing.

Now and then I would see her reach for a size extra-small as she picked something out for herself. The clothes she selected for herself were all in weightless materials, but long sleeved or floor length, designed to cover as much of her skin as possible. A wide brimmed, black straw hat crowned the mountain of clothes.

The salesgirl had a similar reaction to the unusual credit card, becoming more servile, and calling Alice 'miss.' The name she said was unfamiliar, though. Once we were out in the mall again, our arms loaded down with bags, of which she carried the lion's share, I asked about that.

"What did she call you?"

"That credit card says Rachel Lee. We're going to be very careful not to leave any kind of paper trail for the tracker. Let's go get you changed."

I thought about that as she led me back to the restrooms, pushing me into the handicapped stall so I would have room to move. I heard her rummaging in the bags, finally hanging a light blue cotton dress over the door for me.

"Throw your clothes away in the trash can in there. But keep your shoes."

I grimaced, both at the dress and the thought of losing one of my favorite pair of jeans, but did as she asked. She surprised me by pushing a pair of soft leather sandals under the door – when did she get those? The dress fit amazingly well, the expensive cut apparent in the way it flowed around me. I put my sneakers in one of the bags when I was done.

She pulled the sunglasses she'd worn into the mall out of her purse and threw them into the same trash can as my clothes.

"He already knows that I know you, and this way if he does make it this far then it'll give him something to think about."

"How did he know that I knew you, anyways?"

"I hugged you yesterday morning, remember? My scent would have been the strongest on you aside from Edward's. I'm sure he recognized my scent from the last time he saw me... I must have been almost fully changed at the time for him to know it was me..." She sounded troubled by that last statement.

We headed back to the garage after she donned her coat and baseball cap again. Alice got fewer looks this time; she was so covered in bags that it was hard to tell how ridiculously she was dressed.

Jasper was waiting. He slid out of the car at our approach – the trunk was open. As he reached for my bags first, he gave Alice a sardonic look.

"I knew I should have gone," he muttered.

"Yes," she agreed, "They would have loved you in the women's bathroom."

He didn't answer.

Alice dug quickly through her bags before putting them in the trunk. She handed Jasper a pair of sunglasses, putting one pair on herself. She handed me the third pair, and the hairbrush. Finally she grabbed the straw hat and placed it quickly and firmly on Jasper's head.

I couldn't help myself, I giggled. It just looked so asinine on him.

She grabbed one more handful of clothes, before shutting the trunk. Then, rolling them up in a ball, she opened the back door and made a pillow on the seat.

"You need to sleep now," she ordered firmly.

I crawled obediently onto the seat, laying my head down at once, curling onto my side. I was halfway asleep as the car purred to life.

"You shouldn't have gotten me all those things," I mumbled.

"Don't worry about it, Bella. Sleep." Her voice was restful.

"Thank you," I breathed, and slipped into an uneasy slumber.

. . .

I woke again probably about an hour later, this time to Alice's voice.

"We're in a LA, Bella. You had some idea of where you were going to stay?"

I blinked several times, trying to wake up enough to reply. I tried, but it came out as a garbled, "Thresatelnsthskirts"

I cleared my throat so I could talk clearly.

At the same time Jasper spoke, "Yes, please have a hotel in mind, or Alice is going to book us into The Garland."

Alice said something really quickly under her breath that I didn't quite fully catch, but I was relatively sure it was something along the lines of, "Just because we're hiding out doesn't mean we can't do it in luxury."

"There's a small hotel on the southern outskirts of LA. It's privately owned and not as fancy as as The Garland would be, but I've stayed there before when I came out one summer only for my grandma to decide it was the perfect time to fumigate her house." I'd been ten at the time, and hadn't fully understood she was really doing it to teach mom a lesson for leaving me with her while she went off with her boyfriend. "It's got a pool, room service, hot tub, workout room... the rooms are well cared for and it's a nice place to stay."

Alice grumbled something else, but this time I couldn't make it out at all.

I guided them to the hotel that I was talking about after Jasper prompted me to.

* * *

 **AN:** So as stated in the last chapter, I'm now going to be taking a brief break from this story, but I'll be back soon.


	21. Chapter 20 - Impatience

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 20 - Impatience**

I had never before considered the philosophical problems of having to run and then hide out and wait. The thing was, after the adrenaline caused from meeting James, it was completely boring.

I'd known, when I'd woken up late that evening after sleeping most of the day, that my twenty-four hours was now up. My problem was, past that, I didn't know what I was hoping for. I didn't want Edward hurt – I knew that much – but I didn't want Alice or Jasper to be hurt either, and they were with me. So, would it be worse, if he came here and found me? Or if Edward found him?

As I woke up fully, looking around to determine where I was, I recognized the fake stone wall as belonging to the hotel I'd led them to, but past that, I was uncertain.

I had no memory of this room.

I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers claimed it was three o'clock, but they gave no indication if it was night or day. No edge of light escaped the thick curtains, but the room was bright with the light from the lamps.

I rose stiffly and staggered to the window, pulling back the drapes.

It was dark outside. Three in the morning, then. My room looked out at a small housing area. It was new, the last time I'd been at this hotel, there'd been only a handful of houses. It was slightly comforting to be able to pinpoint time and place.

I looked down at myself.

I was still wearing the dress that Alice had insisted I'd put on back at the mall, but as I looked around I noticed laid out on the chair in the bedroom was a set of jeans and a t-shirt. I went over and grabbed them – finding a set of underwear beneath the clothes that would make my mom proud.

I grimaced as I picked them up after looking around for my bag and not finding it.

I changed into the clothes before there was a knock on the door.

"Can I come in?" Alice asked.

I took a deep breath. "Sure."

She walked in, and looked me over cautiously. "You look like you could sleep longer," she said.

I just shook my head.

She drifted silently to the curtains and closed them securely before turning back to me.

"We'll need to stay inside," she told me.

"Okay." My voice was hoarse; it cracked.

"Thirsty?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I'm okay. How about you?"

"Nothing unmanageable." She smiled. "I ordered some food for you, it's in the front room. Edward reminded me that you have to eat a lot more frequently than we do."

I was instantly more alert. "He called?"

"No," she said, and watched as my face fell. "It was before we came to get you in Portland."

I followed her through the door into the living room of the hotel suite. I could hear a low buzz of voices coming from the TV. Jasper sat motionlessly at the desk in the corner, his eyes watching the news with no glimmer of interest.

I sat on the floor next to the coffee table, where a tray of food waited, and began picking at it without noticing what I was eating.

Alice perched on the arm of the sofa and stared blankly at the TV like Jasper.

I ate slowly, watching her, turning now and then to glance quickly at Jasper. It began to dawn on me that they were too still. They never looked away from the screen, though commercials were playing now. I pushed the tray away, my stomach abruptly uneasy. Alice looked down at me.

"What's wrong, Alice?" I asked.

"Nothing's wrong." Her eyes were wide, honest... and I didn't trust them at all.

"What do we do now?"

"We wait for Edward or Emmett to call."

"And should they have called by now?" I could see that I was near the mark. Alice's eyes flitted from mine to the phone on top of her leather bag and back.

"What does that mean?" My voice quavered, and I fought to control it. "That they haven't called yet?"

"It just means that they don't have anything to tell us." But her voice was too even, and the air was harder to breathe.

Jasper was suddenly beside Alice, closer to me than usual.

"Bella," he said in a suspiciously soothing voice. "You have nothing to worry about. You are completely safe here."

"I know that."

"Then why are you frightened?" he asked, confused. He might feel the tenor of my emotions, but he couldn't read the reasons behind them.

"If any of you get hurt because of me..." My voice was just a whisper, but I was sure they could hear me. I could feel tears in my eyes and I forced myself to blink them away. "This isn't how it's supposed to work. My bad luck is supposed to be mine alone. No one else is supposed to be involved or affected by it. If James harms Edward or Emmett... or makes it here and harms one of you... Alice apparently already escaped him once, she shouldn't be risking her life for me, none of you should be –"

"Bella, Bella, stop," he interrupted me, his words pouring out so quickly they were hard to understand. "You're worrying about all the wrong things, Bella. Trust me on this – none of us are in jeopardy. You are under too much strain as it is; don't add to it with wholly unnecessary worries. Listen to me!" he ordered, for I had looked away. "Our family is strong. Our only fear is losing you."

"But why should you –"

Alice interrupted this time, touching my cheek with her cold fingers. "It's been almost a century that Edward's been alone. Now he's found you. You can't see the changes that we see, we who have been with him for so long. Do you think any of us want to look into his eyes for the next hundred years if he loses you?"

My guilt slowly subsided as I looked into her dark eyes. But, even as the calm spread over me, I knew I couldn't trust my feelings with Jasper there.

It was a very long day.

We stayed in the room. Alice called down to the front desk and asked them to ignore our maid service for now. The windows stayed shut, the TV on, though no one watched it. At regular intervals, food was delivered for me. The silver phone resting on Alice's bag seemed to grow bigger as the hours passed.

My babysitters handled the suspense better than I did. As I fidgeted and paced, they simply grew more still: two statues whose eyes followed me imperceptibly as I moved. I occupied myself with memorizing the room; the couch with the leather that was designed to look aged, it had seamless designs in the leather that looked like cracks in the fabric, but really weren't. I traced the pattern of the faux stone wallpaper and looked at the different paintings on the wall. One of the paintings looked like an old California orchard with several pickers taking the fruit – that could be apples, pears, peaches or even oranges – from the massive trees. But when one of the pickers in the painting who was wearing a plaid shirt appeared to look back at me, I immediately looked away.

As the day wore on, I went back to bed, simply for something to do. I hoped that by myself in the dark, I could give in to the terrible fears that hovered on the edge of my consciousness, unable to break through under Jasper's careful supervision.

But Alice followed me casually, as if by some coincidence she had grown tired of the front room at the same time. I was beginning to wonder exactly what sort of instructions Edward had given her. I lay across the bed, and she sat, legs folded, next to me. I ignored her at first, suddenly tired enough to sleep. But after a few minutes, the panic that had held off in Jasper's presence began to make itself known. I gave up on the idea of sleep quickly then, curling up into a small ball, and wrapping my arms around my legs.

"Alice?" I asked.

"Yes?"

I kept my voice very calm. "What do you think they're doing?"

"Edward and Emmett are hunting those that are hunting you. Well, they're hunting James and Victoria – Laurent is absent in my visions. I don't know why. I know they're heading this direction at the moment and eventually will be heading north because they're going to try to lose Edward and Emmett, but the more distant future is murky – some things haven't been determined yet. You needn't worry though, Edward and Emmett are fine."

"Do you think they're safe, really?"

"Bella, how many times do we have to tell you that there's no danger to us?"

"Would you tell me the truth, though?"

"Yes. I will always tell you the truth." Her voice was earnest.

I deliberated for a moment, and decided she meant it.

"Tell me then... how do you become a vampire?"

My question caught her off guard. She was quiet. I rolled over to look at her, and her expression seemed ambivalent.

"Edward doesn't want me to tell you that," she said firmly, but I sensed she didn't agree.

"That's not fair. I think I have a right to know."

"I know."

I looked at her, waiting.

She sighed. "He'll be _extremely_ angry."

"It's none of his business. This is between you and me. Alice, as a friend, I'm begging you." And we were friends now, somehow – as she must have known we would be all along.

She looked at me with her splendid, wise eyes... choosing.

"I'll tell you the mechanics of it," she said finally, "But I don't remember it myself, and I've never done it or seen it done, so keep in mind that I can only tell you the theory."

I waited.

"As predators, we have a glut of weapons in our physical arsenal – much, much more than really necessary. The strength, the speed, the acute senses, not to mention those of us like Edward, Jasper, and I, who have extra senses as well. And then, like a carnivorous flower, we are physically attractive to our prey."

I was very still, remembering how pointedly Edward had demonstrated the same concept for me in the meadow.

She smiled a wide, ominous smile. "We have another fairly superfluous weapon. We're also venomous," she said, her teeth glistening. "The venom doesn't kill – it's merely incapacitating. It works slowly, spreading through the bloodstream, so that, once bitten, our prey is in too much physical pain to escape us. Mostly superfluous, as I said. If we're that close, the prey doesn't escape. Of course, there are always exceptions. Carlisle, for example."

"So... if the venom is left to spread..." I murmured.

"It takes a few days for the transformation to be complete, depending on how much venom is in the bloodstream, how close the venom enters to the heart. As long as the heart keeps beating, the poison spreads, healing, changing the body as it moves through it. Eventually the heart stops, and the conversion is finished. But all that time, every minute of it, a victim would be wishing for death."

I shivered.

"It's not pleasant, you see."

"Edward said that it was very hard to do... I don't quite understand," I said.

"We're also like sharks in a way. Once we taste the blood, or even smell it for that matter, it becomes very hard to keep from feeding. Sometimes impossible. So you see, to actually bite someone, to taste the blood, it would begin the frenzy. It's difficult on both sides – the bloodlust on the one hand, the awful pain on the other."

"Why do you think you don't remember?"

"I don't know. For everyone else, the pain of transformation is the sharpest memory they have of their human life. I remember nothing of being human." Her voice was wistful.

I frowned thoughtfully as we lay silently, wrapped in our individual meditations.

The seconds ticked by, and I had almost forgotten her presence, I was so enveloped in my thoughts.

Then, without any warning, Alice leaped from the bed, landing lightly on her feet. My head jerked up as I stared at her, startled.

"Something's changed." Her voice was urgent, and she wasn't talking to me anymore.

She reached the door at the same time Jasper did. He had obviously heard our conversation and her sudden exclamation. He put his hands on her shoulders and guided her back to the bed, sitting her on the edge.

"What do you see?" he asked intently, staring into her eyes. Her eyes were focused on something very far away. I sat close to her, leaning in to catch her low, quick voice.

"I see a room, it's relatively large, though not huge... it's split into two sections, an area with a fuzzy dark green carpet – shag likely from the seventies – and the other portion is a dark wood floor. There's a heavy oval shaped oak table on the section with the wood –"

I stepped back, because I recognized that room, but Jasper was so focused on Alice that he didn't notice my shock.

"Where is the room?"

"I don't know. Something is missing – another decision hasn't been made yet."

"How much time?"

"It's soon. He'll be in the room today, or maybe tomorrow. It all depends. He's waiting for something. And he's in the dark now."

Jasper's voice was calm, methodical, as he questioned her in a practiced way. "What is he doing?"

"He's on a phone, I can't hear what he's saying, in the dark, in another place."

"Can you see where he is?"

"No, it's too dark."

"And the room with the table? Is there anything else there?

"There's the lower half to a dutch door in the portion with the wooden flooring, the top have was broken and never replaced decades ago. It leads into a large kitchen. On the carpeted section, there's a giant red stain – from a spilled bottle of wine – next to a stairwell that leads up to a second floor. The stairwell looks like it's made of solid stone, but it's really wood," I said before Alice could.

Jasper turned his head to look at me. "You know the place?"

"It's my grandmother's house."

Alice pulled herself out of her trance-like state and they shared a look.

"What does it mean?" I asked.

"It means the tracker's plans have changed. He's made a decision that will lead him to that house. I don't see you there, though. So, it's not necessarily a bad thing, though it does mean he'll be close."

"But we don't know what leads him there?"

"No."

"I also don't see Edward and Emmett, so that means he's eluded them." Alice was unhappy about that.

"Should we call?" I asked. They traded a serious look, undecided.

And the phone rang.

Alice was across the room before I could lift my head to look at it.

She pushed a button and held the phone to her ear, but she didn't speak first.

"Edward," she breathed. She didn't seem surprised or relieved, the way I felt.

"Yes," she said, glancing at me. She listened for a long moment.

"I just saw him." She described again the vision she'd seen, including what I'd told her. "He's coming this way. Though he's not here yet." She paused. "Yes," Alice said into the phone, then spoke to me. "Bella?"

She held the phone out toward me. I ran to it.

"Hello?" I breathed.

"Bella," Edward said.

"Oh, Edward! I was so worried."

"Bella," he sighed in frustration, "You should only be worrying about yourself." It was so unbelievably good to hear his voice. I felt the hovering cloud of despair lighten and drift back as he spoke.

"Where are you?"

"We're near Bellingham. Bella, I'm sorry – we lost him. I'm not sure we ever had him, actually. We were following what I believed was their trail, it smelled like all three of them, originally, but later it was just Victoria and James, and now the only one in the area now is the female." I could hear Alice filling in Jasper behind me, her quick words blurring together into a humming noise.

"What about Laurent?"

"His scent split off, heading west awhile ago. He may be heading towards Forks, though how he'd know you were from there, I have no clue. Carlisle and Esme are watching out for Charlie, just in case."

I thought fast. "Did you make it to Portland before he changed directions?" I asked.

"Yes, how'd you know?"

"My registration papers were in my truck, Edward."

It only took him half a second to figure it out. "Which would have your residence, of course."

"We'll protect your dad. He won't be hurt."

I believed that, because I now understood Laurent's place in the little threesome. He was the reconnaissance, which also meant he was going to be the least invested and the most likely to give up entirely.

"I miss you," I whispered.

"I know, Bella. Believe me, I know. It's like you've taken half my self away with you."

"Come and get it, then," I challenged.

"Soon, as soon as I possibly can. I _will_ make you safe first." His voice was hard.

"I love you," I reminded him.

"Could you believe that, despite everything I've put you through, I love you, too?"

"Yes, I can, actually."

"I'll come for you soon."

"I'll be waiting."

As soon as the phone went dead, the cloud of depression began to creep over me again.

I turned to give the phone back to Alice and found her and Jasper bent over the table, where Alice was sketching on a piece of hotel stationery. I leaned on the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder.

She was drawing the interior of my grandmother's house in vivid detail. I swallowed and stepped back. I had no clue what was still in that house. I knew my mom had taken some of the furniture, but I wouldn't be surprised if there weren't still things upstairs, including information about my mom.

"Alice, is this phone safe?"

"Yes," she reassured me. "The number would just trace back to Washington."

"Then I can use it to call my mom."

"Why?"

"I don't know what is in the upstairs of that house, but my mom is flighty at the best of times, there's every possibility there is information that would lead him to my mother. If there's one sure way to get to me, it's through her or Charlie. She's in Florida with Phil currently, so even if he traces her to her home address in Phoenix before coming after me, he won't find her, but she could go home..."

"How will you reach her?"

"They don't have a permanent number except at the house – she's supposed to check her messages regularly."

"Jasper?" Alice asked.

He thought about it. "I don't think there's any way it could hurt – be sure you don't say where you are, of course."

I reached eagerly for the phone and dialed my mother's number. It rang four times, and then I heard my mom's breezy voice telling me to leave a message.

"Mom," I said after the beep, "it's me. Listen, I need you to do something. It's important. As soon as you get this message, call me at this number." Alice was already at my side, writing the number for me on the bottom of her picture. I read it carefully, twice. "Please don't go anywhere until you talk to me. Don't worry, I'm okay, but I have to talk to you right away, no matter how late you get this call, all right? I love you, Mom. Bye." I closed my eyes and prayed with all my might that she didn't get some crazy idea would bring her home before she got my message.

I settled into the sofa, nibbling on a plate of leftover fruit, anticipating a long evening. I thought about calling Charlie, but I wasn't sure what I'd tell him. I was certain he hadn't found and read 'my note' yet, so I knew that he was currently assuming I was safe in Tacoma. If Carlisle and Esme were keeping him physically safe, I supposed there was nothing I could do. I concentrated on the news, watching out for stories about Florida, or about spring training – strikes or hurricanes or terrorist attacks – anything that might send them home early.

Immortality must grant endless patience. Neither Jasper nor Alice seemed to feel the need to do anything at all. For a while, Alice sketched the vague outline of the dark place from her vision, as much as she could see. But when she was done, she simply sat, looking at the blank walls with her timeless eyes. Jasper, too, seemed to have no urge to pace, or peek through the curtains, or run screaming out the door, the way I did.

I must have fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring again. The touch of Alice's cold hands woke me briefly as she carried me to the bed, but I was unconscious again before my head hit the pillow.


	22. Chapter 21 - Phone Call

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 21 – Phone Call**

I felt it was too early again when I woke, and I knew I was getting the schedule of my days and nights slowly reversed. I lay in my bed and listened to the quiet voices of Alice and Jasper in the other room. That they were loud enough for me to hear at all was strange. I rolled till my feet touched the floor and then staggered to the living room.

The clock on the TV said it was just after two in the morning. Alice and Jasper were sitting together on the sofa, Alice sketching again while Jasper looked over her shoulder. They didn't look up when I entered, too engrossed in Alice's work.

I crept to Jasper's side to peek.

"Did she see something more?" I asked him quietly.

"Yes. Something's brought him back to the dark place, but it's light now."

I watched as Alice drew a small room, spending time on rounded wooden logs that ran parallel with the ground and made up the walls. The floor was also made of wood, excepting a giant round rug that had deep brown wolves and bright gold Thunderbirds weaved into the tan color of the rug. There was a single plaid couch – which was actually a hide-a-bed – that had probably been much more popular in the seventies or eighties than now. And there were two door shown in what she'd shown so far – I knew one went to a little bedroom that had a bathroom attached, and the other a small kitchen.

As she started to draw a small side table, I muttered, "There's a small television that goes on top."

Both sets of eyes stared at me.

"It's a hunting cabin in Oregon. It belongs to Harry Clearwater and his family on the res, but I go there with my dad at least once a year." I shook my head.

Alice's brow furrowed. "What could possibly be there?"

"I can't think of anything of importance." There was my rifle, but I didn't mention it. After all, vampires didn't need rifles.

Alice got up, bringing out her cell and dialing a number as she stepped away. I stared at the precise rendering of the main room of the small cabin, trying to figure out _what was there_ – as I'd said, I went there at least once a year – but I couldn't think of anything that I might have accidentally left which would prove of value to James in getting to me.

Uncharacteristically, Jasper slid closer to me. He lightly touched his hand to my shoulder, and the physical contact seemed to make his calming influence stronger.

Alice's lips were trembling with the speed of her words, the low buzzing impossible to decipher. I couldn't concentrate.

"Bella," Alice said. I looked at her numbly as she hung up the phone.

"Bella, Edward is coming to get you. He and Emmett are going to take you somewhere, to hide you for a while."

"Edward is coming?" The words meant _something_ , even over the cool neutrality that Jasper was causing

"Yes, they're already halfway here. They're gonna head straight to the airport, we'll meet him there, and then you'll leave with him."

"I have to call Sam, Alice. He needs to know that his fiancee is in danger, because of me."

Jasper and Alice shared a look.

"That's not advisable, Bella," Alice finally said.

"I don't care," I snapped. My irritation in that instant was strong enough to break through even Jasper's compulsion. "You and them might have some strange animosity, but I've known the people on the res _my whole life_. Aside from Charlie, the people there are the closest to a real family that I've ever had. So either give me your phone to call him or give me my bag so I can use the disposable that I bought."

They shared another glance before Alice sighed and handed me her phone.

I dialed Sam's number from memory, but it rang three times and then went to a generic voicemail. "Sam, when you get this, please be aware that the cold one –" I almost said vampire, but stopped myself because it was a voice mail "– after me tracked me to the hunting cabin the Clearwaters own. Don't ask me how I know that, I just do. It looks like he's following me, so I don't think he'll change his direction, but if he does, please be careful." I hung up, handing the phone back to Alice.

There was a problem with my knowledge of human predatory behavior, and that was the fact that this _hunter_ wasn't following it the way he should. He was finding too many chinks in my armor, too many people he could hurt me through, and eventually, he'd get to me through someone.

I didn't know what I subconsciously decided or thought in that instant, but suddenly Alice looked pointedly at Jasper. A deep, heavy fog of lethargy washed over me, and my eyes closed without my permission. My mind struggled against the fog, realizing what was happening. I forced my eyes open and stood up, stepping away from Jasper's hand.

"I don't want to go back to sleep," I snapped.

I walked to my room and shut the door, slammed it really, so I could be free to go to pieces privately. This time Alice didn't follow me. For three and a half hours I stared at the wall, curled in a ball, rocking. My mind went around in circles, trying to come up with some way out of this nightmare.

There was no escape, no reprieve. I could see only one possible end looming darkly in my future. The only question was how many other people would be hurt before I reached it.

The only solace, the only hope I had left, was knowing that I would see Edward soon. Maybe, if I could just see his face again, I would also be able to see the solution that eluded me now.

When the phone rang I returned to the front room, a little ashamed of my behavior. I hoped I hadn't offended either of them, that they would know how grateful I was for the sacrifices they were making on my account.

Alice was talking as rapidly as ever, but what caught my attention was that, for the first time, Jasper was not in the room. I looked at the clock – it was five-thirty in the morning.

"They'll be here in about four hours," Alice told me. Just a few more hours to keep breathing till he was here.

"Where's Jasper?"

"He went to let them know we'd be checking out this evening."

"You aren't staying here?"

"No, we're relocating to Downey so we're closer to the house he showed up in."

My stomach twisted uneasily at her words.

But the phone rang again, distracting me. She looked surprised, but I was already walking forward, reaching hopefully for the phone.

"Hello?" Alice asked. "No, she's right here." She held the phone out to me. "He said his name was Phil, your stepfather, I think," she whispered.

"Hello?"

"Bella, you're mother is worried sick about you." The voice was pleasant. There was a slight boom to it. It didn't _sound like_ James. There was only one big problem – it definitely was Phil.

I stepped away from Alice, because I knew he wasn't going to stop – that much was abundantly obvious.

"Hello Phil," I said softly.

"Be very careful not to say anything until I tell you to." The voice I heard was James now, but it was much more quiet. He spoke very quickly.

"Now, I don't need to hunt down and kill your mother or her husband, nor do I necessarily need to have Laurent kill any of the numerous people in your life in Forks, so please do exactly as I say, and they'll all be fine." He paused for a minute while I listened mutely. "That's very good," he congratulated. "Now repeat after me, and do try to sound natural. Please say, 'Don't worry, Phil, everything is fine.'"

"Don't worry, Phil, everything is fine." My voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I can see this is going to be difficult." The voice was amused, still light and friendly. "Why don't you walk into another room now so your face doesn't ruin everything? There's no reason for anyone else to be involved in our deal. As you're walking, please say, 'Calm down, Phil.' Say it now."

"Calm down, Phil," my voice pleaded. I walked very slowly to the bedroom, feeling Alice's worried stare on my back. I shut the door behind me, trying to think clearly through the fear that gripped my brain.

"There now, are you alone? Just answer yes or no."

"Yes."

"But they can still hear you, I'm sure."

"Yes."

"All right, then," the agreeable voice continued, "say, 'Phil, trust me.'"

"Phil, trust me."

"This worked out rather better than I expected. I was prepared to wait, but you seem to leave the most interesting notes lying around. It's simpler this way, isn't it? Less suspense, less anxiety for you."

I realized, with horror, what he was referring to. It had been last spring while Charlie and I had been at the cabin when mom had called and told me the news that Phil had proposed. During her long winded explanation, she'd wanted me to write down her passcode for her house voicemail as she was going to go with him to Las Vegas for a week to celebrate, and she wanted to make sure someone had it who would remember it. I'd wrote the passcode down as well as an explanation to Charlie so he'd know what she was chattering away at me about – for a solid two hours. I'd left the note in the drawer of the side table with the little tv when we'd went home.

"Now I want you to listen very carefully. I'm going to need you to get away from your friends; do you think you can do that? Answer yes or no."

"No."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping you would be a little more creative than that. Do you think you could get away from them if someone's life depended on it, say the dark-skinned little boy and older girl that I have a picture of? Answer yes or no."

He was talking about a photo of Leah and Seth from the cabin. Somehow, there had to be a way. The airport probably had escape points... but I'd only been in it a couple of times, and wouldn't know where to go. On the other hand, if I could get a few minutes alone here at the hotel, possibly.

"Yes."

"That's better. I'm sure it won't be easy, but if I get the slightest hint that you have any company, well, that would be very bad for the people you care for," the friendly voice promised. "You must know enough about us by now to realize how quickly I would know if you tried to bring anyone along with you. And how little time I would need to change the focus of my hunt – at least for awhile. Do you understand? Answer yes or no."

"Yes." My voice broke.

"Very good, Bella. Now this is what you have to do. I want you to head North from where you're at. You'll meet me in Bakersfield. Can you do that? Answer yes or no."

"No." It was a two hour drive in good traffic, and getting on a bus or taking a taxi would take even longer. In that amount of time, I was quite sure that the Cullens would have caught up to me. I stepped to the far end of the room, turning on the radio on the little alarm clock. "Give me your number and I'll text an address where we can meet, it's deserted." My voice was no more than a breath.

"I don't like changes to my plans," he said politely.

"Even getting twenty minutes away from my current location is going to be difficult," I said tersely but still quietly.

"Ah, be careful now, Bella. Wait until I ask you to speak, please."

I waited.

"I suppose I'll meet you there, I'm oh so interested to see what this location is. It's important, now, that you don't make your friends suspicious when you go back to them. Tell them that Phil called because of the message you left your mom, and that you talked them into staying wherever they are for the time being. Now repeat after me, 'Thank you, Phil.' Say it now."

"Thank you, Phil." The tears were coming. I tried to fight them back.

"Say, 'Tell my mom that I love her, bye, Phil.' Say it now."

"Tell my mom that I love her," My voice was thick. "Bye, Phil."

He gave me his phone number, before finishing with, "Goodbye, Bella. I look forward to seeing you again." He hung up.

I held the phone to my ear. My joints were frozen in fear – I couldn't unbend my fingers to drop it. Finally, after what felt like an hour but was likely only a few seconds, I pulled it away and sent the text before deleting the text from the cellphone's history.

I knew I had to think past where I was at, but my head was filled with the panic at the idea of him going after _anyone_ _else,_ because of me. Seconds ticked by while I fought for control.

Slowly, slowly, my thoughts started to break past that brick wall of pain. To plan. For I had no choices now but one – I was relatively certain I'd always only had one – and that was to die. I had no guarantees, nothing to give to keep the people I loved alive. I could only hope that James would be satisfied with winning the game, that beating me would be enough. Despair gripped me; there was no way to bargain, nothing I could offer or withhold that could influence him. But I still had no choice. I had to try.

I pushed the terror back as well as I could. My decision was made. It did no good to waste time agonizing over the outcome. I had to think clearly, because Alice and Jasper were waiting for me, and evading them was absolutely essential, and absolutely impossible.

I was suddenly grateful that Jasper was gone. If he had been here to feel my anguish in the last five minutes, how could I have kept them from being suspicious? I choked back the dread, the anxiety, tried to stifle it. I couldn't afford it now. I didn't know when he would return.

I concentrated on my escape. I had to hope that I could be convincing. Somehow, I had to keep Alice away...

I knew Alice was in the other room waiting for me, curious. But I had to deal with one more thing in private, before Jasper was back.

I had to accept that I wouldn't see Edward again, not even one last glimpse of his face to carry with me to my fate. I was going to hurt him, and I couldn't say goodbye. I let the waves of torture wash over me, have their way for a time. Then I pushed them back, too, and went to face Alice.

The only expression I could manage was a dull, dead look. I saw her alarm and I didn't wait for her to ask. I had just one script and I'd never manage improvisation now.

"They were worried and wanted to return home. But it's okay, I convinced them to stay away."

My voice was lifeless.

"We'll take care of him and then they'll be fine, Bella, don't worry."

I turned away; I couldn't let her see my face.

My eyes fell on a blank page of the hotel stationary on the desk. I went to it slowly, a plan forming. There was an envelope there, too. That was good.

"Alice," I asked slowly, without turning, keeping my voice level. "If I write a letter for Charlie, would you make sure it gets to him? Post it, I mean."

"Sure, Bella." Her voice was careful. She could see me coming apart at the seams. I _had_ to keep my emotions under better control.

I went into the bedroom again, and knelt next to the little bedside table to write.

" _Edward_ ," I wrote. My hand was shaking, the letters were hardly legible.

 _I love you. I am so sorry. He has decided that if he can't have me than he'll go after the people I care the most about instead, and I can't let him do that. I have to try. I know it may not work. I am so very, very sorry. Don't be angry with Alice and Jasper. If I get away from them it will be a miracle. Tell them thank you for me. Alice especially, please._

 _And please, please don't come after him. That's what he'll want now that the challenge I tried to possess has passed. I can't bear it if anyone has to be hurt because of me, especially you. Please, this is the only thing I can ask you now. For me._

 _I love you. Forgive me._

 _Bella._

I folded the letter carefully, and sealed it in the envelope. Eventually he would find it. I only hoped he would understand, and listen to me just this once.

And then I carefully sealed away my heart.

* * *

 **AN:** So, the number of chapter with her relationship with Edward are dwindling down. There's only about seven chapters left with him. Once he's gone, we'll be moving forward to her relationship with Jacob, and it will start out as a very typical teenage thing (well actually a typical human thing), a rebound.


	23. Chapter 22 - Hide-And-Seek

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 22 – Hide-And-Seek**

It had taken much less time than I'd thought – all the terror, the despair, the shattering of my heart. The minutes were ticking by more slowly than usual. Jasper still hadn't come back when I returned to Alice. I was afraid to be in the same room with her, afraid that she would guess... and afraid to hide from her for the same reason.

I would have thought I was far beyond the ability to be surprised, my thoughts tortured and unstable, but I _was_ surprised when I saw Alice bent over the desk, gripping the edge with two hands.

"Alice?"

She didn't react when I called her name, but her head was slowly rocking side to side, and I saw her face. Her eyes were blank, dazed... My thoughts flew to Seth and Leah. Was I already too late? I hurried to her side, reaching out automatically to touch her hand.

"Alice!" Jasper's voice whipped through the air, and then he was right behind her, his hands curling over hers, loosening them from their grip on the table. Across the room, the door swung shut with a low click.

"What is it?" he demanded.

She turned her face away from me, into his chest. "Bella," she said.

"I'm right here," I replied.

Her head twisted around, her eyes locking on mine, their expression still strangely blank. I realized at once that she hadn't been speaking to me, she'd been answering Jasper's question.

"What did you see?" I said – and there was no question in my flat, uncaring voice.

Jasper looked at me sharply. I kept my expression vacant and waited. His eyes were confused as they flickered swiftly between Alice's face and mine, feeling the chaos... for I was completely certain what Alice had seen now.

I felt a tranquil atmosphere settle around me. I welcomed it, using it to keep my emotions disciplined, under control.

Alice, too, recovered herself.

"Nothing, really," she answered finally, her voice remarkably calm and convincing. "Just the same room as before."

She finally looked at me, her expression smooth and withdrawn. "Did you want breakfast?"

"No, I'll eat at the airport." I was very calm, too. "I would, however, like to go downstairs and sit by the pool for awhile. I just need to relax for a bit, and being cooped up in here while being watched like a hawk isn't helping me."

I kept my mind deliberately blank, making no plans and no decisions. Even so, I was certain I wasn't going to get away with it until Alice blinked and looked at Jasper.

"Stay in the building," Jasper said.

"Okay," I agreed. I quickly headed to the door, glancing back briefly and finding Alice and Jasper facing away from me. They were talking to each other in murmured voices and focused completely on what they were discussing. I reached out and grabbed the flat clutch that Alice had left on the table beside the door and then I headed out of the room.

I walked down the hall to the elevator that would take me to the first floor, almost tripping over my feet twice. I muttered a curse word under my breath that would make my mother blush – correction, that _should_ make her blush. Once I was in the elevator with the door shut, I opened the small purse up. There were over a dozen cards and cash. I pulled the cash out, slipped the letter in that I had in my pocket, then shut the purse.

When I got out of the elevator on the first floor, I headed straight to the front desk.

"I found this on the ground in the hallway of the second floor," I told the clerk as I handed over the purse before asking to use the phone to call for a taxi.

The call was brief and I walked over to the pool as I waited the ten minutes for it to arrive. It was anything but relaxing as I half expected Alice or Jasper to appear out of thin air and stop me. Every one of the six hundred seconds was more tense than the last, but finally the taxi arrived and I dashed outside, getting in the back.

"Where to, miss?"

I gave the driver of the cab the address of the house in Downey, closing my eyes as he pulled away from the hotel and away from the safety that the Cullens were offering me. I wished I could call my dad and tell him I loved him and that I was sorry, wished I could hear Edward's voice one more time, wished I could tell Billy and Jacob goodbye, wished that my friends didn't have to go through the pain of losing me... But the truth was that my death was trivial as long as the ones I loved continued on without me.

It was the one thing that made my decision bearable, knowing that they'd be alright – in the long run. I knew Angela would be heartbroken at the loss of her friend, Jessica would pretend to be inconsolable, and Lauren would be unaffected. I knew Mike would be hit almost as hard as Angela, while Eric, Ben, and Tyler would miss me... I could only imagine how badly it would hit my friends on the res, especially Jacob. I refused to admit, even to myself, how badly it would affect Charlie. And I couldn't imagine how painful it would be for Edward. Our relationship was still in the early budding phase, but still, I knew our relationship would have been epic if we'd only had the chance to see it out.

But, in spite of all that, I knew everyone would eventually move on, everyone would survive. People would miss me, for a time, but eventually they'd get on with their lives. They'd go off to college, continue to serve and protect, become werewolves, move to a new town with a new name and start over again... They'd all be happy again eventually, without me. I was sure of it. It made death an acceptable option.

None of them would know – except the Cullens – that I'd died to protect them, but that didn't matter.

I tried to turn my thoughts in a happier direction as I imagined what would have happened if I'd decided stay and went to the airport to meet Edward so we could run away together. I visualized how I would stand on my toes, the sooner to see his face. How quickly, how gracefully he would move through the crowds of people separating us. And then I would run to close those last few feet between us – reckless as always – and I would be in his marble arms, finally safe.

I wondered where we would have gone. North somewhere, so he could be outside in the day. Or maybe somewhere very remote, so we could lay in the sun together again. I imagined him by the shore, his skin sparkling like the sea. It wouldn't matter how long we had to hide. To be trapped in a hotel room with him would be a kind of heaven. So many questions I still had for him. I could talk to him forever, never sleeping, never leaving his side.

I could see his face so clearly now... almost hear his voice. And, despite all the horror and hopelessness, I was fleetingly happy. So involved was I in my escapist daydreams, I lost all track of the seconds racing by.

"Hey, what was the number?"

The cabbie's question punctured my fantasy, letting all the colors run out of my lovely delusions. Fear, bleak and hard, was waiting to fill the empty space they left behind.

"Seven thirty-two." My voice sounded strangled. The cabbie looked at me, nervous that I was having an episode or something.

"Here we are, then."

I reached into the pocket where I'd put the cash I stole from Alice and handed him the top two bills, both of them c notes. Then I got out of the taxi.

In spite of the fact that the house hadn't been lived in for over five years, the yard was immaculately trimmed. I was sure it was something that the attorneys who had holdings on my late grandmother's estate till I turned eighteen were using money, from the life insurance left to me, to keep the yard maintained.

The outside of the little – by the neighborhood's standards, not my own, as the house was over twice the size of where I lived with Charlie – two story house was painted a pristine white with steel-blue trim around the windows and doors. The roof itself was a dark gray. In years past, the sight of the house had been one of the few joys I'd had when I came to visit my mom every summer. Today though, it was one of the gloomiest sights I'd ever seen – an oppression thicker than heavy thunder clouds settled over me as I stepped towards the solid oak door.

The front door to the house should have been locked, but I could sense it in my bones that James was already here and waiting for me inside. So I knew I'd find the door unlocked.

I gripped the knob and turned, feeling the knob move with my hand with a deadly silence. It took every ounce of my will to open the door and not turn and run back down the walk, screaming for the cab driver to come back.

I opened the door.

As I stepped inside, my eyes immediately landed on the wine stain on the carpet. I couldn't help but wonder how much longer until that stain was also my blood. I shuddered slightly.

"Hello, Bella," a voice said from other end of the room I was in. "That was very quick. I'm impressed."

I turned to look at James. He was standing in the corner, the old solid oak dining room table on his left. On top of the table was my rifle and the framed picture of Seth and Leah from about four years ago. James held onto an old video camera that I recognized from the cabin.

"Beg for it."

"No." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"You're breaking your word?" His eyes flashed in anger.

"Not even a little bit. I agreed to let you kill me however you wanted _if you caught me_. You didn't catch me, James. _I_ gave you this location. _I_ came here of my own free will. So fuck you." I looked at my rifle again. "Besides if you need my gun's help to take care of me then I clearly misjudged your potency."

His eyes flashed in anger again but he didn't move. "I don't _need_ the gun. But I am going to have fun with it. But first... You see, this was all just a little too easy, too quick. To be quite honest, I'm disappointed. I expected a much greater challenge. And, after all, I only needed a little luck."

I waited in silence.

"When Laurent couldn't get to your father, I had him find out more about you. There was no sense in running all over the planet chasing you down when I could comfortably wait for you in a place of my choosing. So, after I talked to Laurent, I decided to return to Oregon. You see, I have excellent senses and track scents that are months old. It made finding the cabin easy enough... At first, I never dreamed the scent I was tracking would lead to anything useful. But then I found your mother's password for her voicemail and heard your message to her. You sounded like you cared for her deeply...

"But of course I wasn't sure, it was just a hunch. I usually get a feeling about the prey that I'm hunting, a sixth sense, if you will. I listened to your message that you left your, but of course I couldn't be sure where you'd called from. It was very useful to have your number, but you could have been in Antarctica for all I knew, and the game wouldn't work unless you were close by.

"Then your vampire protectors started heading south. Victoria was monitoring them for me, naturally; in a game with this many players, I couldn't be working alone. And so they told me what I'd hoped, that you were in this direction. I was prepared; it was easy to call and pretend to be your overly concerned step-father and bluff my way to you.

"Very easy, you know, not really up to my standards. So, you see, I'm hoping your protectors will prove more of a challenge for me."

"I don't think they will. At least, I asked them not to."

"And what was their reply to that?"

"I don't know." It was strangely easy to converse with this genteel hunter. "I left them a letter."

"How romantic, a last letter. And do you think they will honor it?" His voice was just a little harder now, a hint of sarcasm marring his polite tone.

"I hope so."

"I'm sorry, but I just don't think they'll be able to resist hunting me after they watch this." He tapped the camera in his hands. "And I wouldn't want them to miss anything. It was all for them, of course. You're simply a human, who unfortunately and indisputably decided to hang with the wrong crowd."

He stepped toward me, smiling.

I felt a curl of nausea in the pit of my stomach as he stepped toward me. I was running out of time and I knew it. "Wait. Alice remembers nothing of her human life them. You've got me. Give them the answers that you obviously know."

He tilted his head to side, looking at me curiously. "Very well. It'll only serve to rub it into them. The answer was there all along, and I was so afraid they'd realize what they'd need to do and that would ruin my fun. It happened once, oh, ages ago. The one and only time my prey escaped me.

"You see, the vampire who was so stupidly fond of this little victim he made the choice that your protectors were too weak to make. When the old one knew I was after his little friend, he stole her from the asylum where he worked – I _never_ will understand the obsession some vampires seem to form with you humans – and as soon as he freed her he made her safe. She didn't even seem to notice the pain, poor little creature. She'd been stuck in that black hole of a cell for so long. A hundred years earlier and she would have been burned at the stake for her visions. In the nineteen-twenties it was the asylum and the shock treatments. When she opened her eyes, strong with her fresh youth, it was like she'd never seen the sun before. The old vampire made her a strong new vampire, and there was no reason for me to touch her then." He sighed. "I destroyed the old one in vengeance."

"What was her name? You said you knew it," I demanded bitterly. There was an anger in my voice that wasn't for me, but was for Alice.

"Mary Alice Brandon. She was the one victim who escaped me, quite an honor, actually. And she did smell so delicious. I still regret that I never got to taste... She smelled even better than you do. Sorry – I don't mean to be offensive. You have a very nice smell. Floral, somehow..."

He took another few steps toward me, till he was just inches away. He lifted a lock of my hair and sniffed at it delicately. Then he gently patted the strand back into place, and I felt his cool fingertips against my throat. He reached up to stroke my cheek once quickly with his thumb, his face curious. I wanted so badly to run, but I was frozen. I couldn't even flinch away.

"No," he murmured to himself as he dropped his hand, "I don't understand." He sighed. "Well, I suppose we should get on with it. And then I can call your friends and tell them where to find you, and my little message."

I was definitely sick now. There was pain coming, I could see it in his eyes. It wouldn't be enough for him to win, to feed and go. There would be no quick end for me. My knees began to shake, and I was afraid I was going to fall.

He stepped back, and began to circle, casually, as if he were trying to get a better view of a statue in a museum. His face was still open and friendly as he decided where to start.

Then he slumped forward, into a crouch I recognized, and his pleasant smile slowly widened, grew, till it wasn't a smile at all but a contortion of teeth, exposed and glistening.

I couldn't help myself – I tried to run. As useless as I knew it would be, as weak as my knees already were, panic took over and I bolted, turning towards the stairs. I knew I wouldn't be able to get up them, but if I could then I could get to the crawl space in the back of the closet in the bedroom I used to sleep in.

He was in front of me in a flash. I didn't see if he used his hand or his foot, it was too fast. A crushing blow struck my chest – I felt myself flying backward and my head bang heavily into the oak table before I slid to the floor. I could feel the echoing headache reverberating in my skull as yet _another_ concussion started to set in. Two hysteric notes floated through my head in that moment. The first, that I was actually grateful I wouldn't have to go to the hospital over this one. And the second, I wondered if I'd just done more damage to the table – or the table to me.

He walked toward me slowly as I blinked away the twinkle stars crowding my vision. It would probably be less painful for me if I let myself pass out, but I wouldn't let myself do it. I had to try to fight – even if it was a lost cause.

"Ready to beg yet?"

I ignored him, scrambling on my hands and knees, crawling toward the kitchen doorway.

The slam of something sharp and painful piercing my shoulder had me screaming just as a loud bang sounded. I realized then that he shot me – with my own rifle. It was a screaming pain the likes of which I'd never felt before. It was nothing like a taser or pepper spray, both of which I'd tried on myself in the past. It was a pain that was so intense, so consuming, I could imagine nothing worse. I wondered how anyone could handle it.

"I didn't originally intend to waste your blood in such a way, but there's something so fitting about it. Your own weapon being the means of your demise."

A kick to my ribs slammed me into the wall and I fell to the ground sprawled out. I didn't have the energy or the fight in me anymore to try and get up. I was pretty sure if I tried, my shoulder would give way and I'd land on the floor face-first.

I had wanted to struggle, to put up some kind of fight, just to try... but the time for that had already passed and I silently begged myself to lose consciousness so that the end would come without me being aware. Of course, I wasn't that lucky.

"Would you like to rethink your last request?" he asked pleasantly.

Even though my mind was hazy, the adrenaline and pain burning way to endorphins that were soon going to be causing me hallucinations, I knew what he was talking about. "No! No, Edward, don't –" I croaked before it became too hard to talk and I weakly coughed up a mouthful of blood. I _had_ had a broken rib pierce my lung before, so some part of me recognized the symptom.

"Is that the reason you're so close to them, because you love one of them? Edward?"

The questions were rhetorical. And even if they weren't... I didn't have it in me to reply at the moment.

"Well let's give your dear Edward something to be really angry over." Suddenly he had my right hand in his and pulled it up to his mouth.

In spite of the hazy fog descending in my brain as my lucidity started to fail, I felt as every single one of his razor sharp teeth sunk into my skin, ripping through muscle, sinew, and tendon as he bit me. The pain was instantaneous. It turned out, I'd been wrong about there being no worse pain than the bullet, the burning in my wrist was a thousand times worse.

Everything started to fade away as I gave in to the pain, but as my eyes started to drift shut, I saw something that gave me a sudden, final shred of hope. His eyes, merely intent before, now burned with an uncontrollable need. The blood – spreading crimson across the wooden floor, the same blood he'd just tasted – was driving him mad with thirst. No matter his original intentions, he couldn't draw this out much longer.

Let it be quick now, was all I could hope as my consciousness was sucked away with the ever increasing pain. My eyes closed.


	24. Chapter 23 - Angel

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 23 – Angel**

As I drifted. I dreamed.

Where I floated, under the dark water, I heard the happiest sound my mind could conjure up – as beautiful, as uplifting, as it was ghastly. It was another snarl; a deeper, wilder roar that rang with fury.

There was a loud crash, and I wanted to flinch, but I couldn't. That was when I knew I was dead.

I felt a sharp pressure against my shoulder. "Oh no, Bella, no!" an angel's voice cried in horror.

Behind that longed-for sound was another noise – an awful tumult that my mind shied away from. A vicious bass growling, a shocking snapping sound, and a high keening, suddenly breaking off... I tried to concentrate on the angel's voice instead.

"Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, Bella, please!" he begged.

Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn't find my lips.

"Pull yourself together, Edward. I'll call Carlisle. He'll tell me how to get the bullet out and suture that wound shut," it was a woman's voice that I was relatively certain I recognized. "I'm ninety percent sure I can do it if I don't breath... much"

"Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!" And the angel was sobbing tear-less, broken sobs.

An angel shouldn't weep, it was wrong. I tried to find him, to tell him everything was fine, but the water was so deep it was pressing on me, and I couldn't breathe.

Things sounded relatively quiet for an endless moment, though I was relatively sure I heard some sort of low buzzing, then there was a point of pressure against my shoulder. It hurt. As that pain broke through the darkness to me, other pains came, stronger pains. I cried out, gasping, breaking through the dark pool.

"Bella!" the angel cried.

"Keep it together, Edward. You have more medical training than _I do_ ," the same woman's voice said harshly. "I'm pretty sure she's got a couple of broken ribs on top of this wound."

A howl of rage strangled from the angel's lips.

But the sharp pains were fading. There was a scalding pain in my hand that was overshadowing everything else.

Someone was burning me.

"Edward." I tried to tell him, but my voice was so heavy and slow. I couldn't understand myself.

"Bella, you're going to be fine. Can you hear me, Bella? I love you."

"Edward," I tried again. My voice was a little clearer.

"Yes, I'm here."

"It hurts," I whimpered.

"I know, Bella, I know –" and then, away from me, anguished " – don't you have anything to help with the pain, Alice?"

"I barely had any time to get _anything_ , Edward," she said fiercely. "I was lucky enough to get an emergency first aid kit with a suture kit inside. There's nothing in that kit that she'll be able to take just yet. It's all oral meds, nothing intravenous."

"Alice?" I groaned.

"I'm right here," she said softly as I realized it was her small hands on the back of my shoulder.

"My hand hurts," I tried to tell Edward.

"I know, Bella. Once we get that wound sewed up, we'll get you out of here and to a hospital."

"My hand is burning!" I screamed, finally breaking through the last of the darkness. Why couldn't they see the fire and put it out?

His voice was frightened. "Bella?"

"The fire! Someone stop the fire!" I screamed as it burned me.

I thought I felt something touch my hand. "She's been bit," Alice stated, the pressure on my shoulder momentarily disappeared.

I heard Edward catch his breath in horror.

"Edward, you know I've already seen her becoming one of us." Alice was calmer than she'd been since I first heard her.

On the other hand, Edward seemed to be freaking out more and more by the second. "No!" he bellowed.

"Alice," I moaned.

There was a quiet buzz – some part of me filled in that it was the sound of someone on another end of a phone.

"How?" Edward asked.

There was more of the incessant buzzing.

"Will that even work?" Alice's voice was strained all of a sudden.

Another brief buzzing.

"Carlisle, I..." Edward hesitated. "I don't think I can do that." There was agony in his beautiful voice again. "Alice –"

"Don't even consider asking me that question." Alice snarled the words as she cut him off point blank. "I'm barely controlling myself as it is, and you know I want her as my sister. You should let the change happen."

I writhed in the grip of the fiery torture, the movement jostling my shoulder and making the pain there almost unbearable.

"Edward!" I screamed. I opened my eyes, desperate to find his face. And I found him. I could see his perfect face, staring at me, twisted into a mask of indecision and pain.

The buzzing from the phone was loud enough this time that I could actually hear the last few words, which were, "If you don't do it soon, it will be too late." I thought the voice sounded sort of like Carlisle's.

Edward's face was drawn and he glanced at the person behind me – Alice, I was sure.

"I'm against the idea, Edward. There's a good chance you'll kill her, yourself. If _I_ was to try, I _know_ I would. But if you _are_ going to do it, then I need to get this wound sewn shut."

The pressure reappeared at the back of my shoulder.

I watched Edward's eyes as the doubt was suddenly replaced with a blazing determination. His jaw tightened. I felt his cool, strong fingers on my burning hand, locking it in place. Then his head bent over it, and his cold lips pressed against my skin.

At first the pain was worse. I screamed and thrashed against the cool hands that held me back. I heard Alice's voice, trying to calm me as a vice like grip suddenly pinned me the ground preventing the upper half of my body from moving.

Then, slowly, my writhing calmed as my hand grew more and more numb. The fire was dulling, focusing into an ever-smaller point.

I felt my consciousness slipping as the pain subsided. I was afraid to fall into the black waters again, afraid I would lose him in the darkness.

"Edward," I tried to say, but I couldn't hear my voice. They could hear me though.

"He's right here, Bella," Alice said softly.

"Stay, Edward, stay with me..."

"I will." His voice was strained, but somehow triumphant.

I sighed contentedly. The fire was gone, the other pains dulled by a sleepiness seeping through my body.

There was another brief buzzing.

"Her blood tastes clean," Edward said quietly. "Bella?"

I tried to answer. "Mmmmm?"

"Is the fire gone?"

"Yes," I sighed. "Thank you, Edward."

"I love you," he answered.

"I know," I breathed, so tired.

I heard my favorite sound in the world: Edward's quiet laugh, weak with relief.

I wanted to sleep, but there was something I needed to tell Alice. I forced myself to think until I could remember what it was.

"Alice." I tried to open my eyes. "Alice, the video – I got him to admit your full name in it." I meant to speak urgently, but my voice was feeble. "I smell gasoline," I added, surprised through the haze in my brain.

"We need to move her," Alice said.

"No, I want to sleep," I complained.

"You can sleep, sweetheart, I'll carry you," Edward soothed me.

And I was in his arms, cradled against his chest – floating, all the pain gone.

I tried to tell them that I needed to be taken back to Tacoma, but what came out was a garbled mess of monosyllabic noises.

"Sleep now, Bella," were the last words I heard.

. . .

My eyes opened to a bright, white light. I was in a white room I'd never been in before, though the room itself was similar to many rooms I'd been in throughout the last seventeen years of my life. The wall beside me was covered in long vertical blinds; over my head, the glaring lights blinded me. I was propped up on a hard, uneven bed – a bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy. There was an annoying beeping sound somewhere close by. It meant I was still alive, after all, death wouldn't be this uncomfortable... besides, I knew a hospital room when I saw one.

My hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped across my face, under my nose. I lifted my hand to rip it off.

"No, you don't." And cool fingers caught my hand.

"Edward?" I turned my head slightly, and his exquisite face was just inches from mine, his chin resting on the edge of my pillow. I realized again that I was alive, this time with gratitude and elation. "Oh, Edward, I'm so sorry!"

"Shhhh," he shushed me. "Everything's all right now."

"What happened?" I couldn't remember clearly, and my mind rebelled against me as I tried to recall.

"I was almost too late. I could have been too late," he whispered, his voice tormented.

"I'm so sorry, he threatened my friends and family. I couldn't let him go after them like he was with me."

"Shh, I understand. It's alright."

"I need to call Charlie, tell him where I'm at... Where am I actually?"

"Portland, and your dad has already been called. He's down in the cafeteria at the moment getting coffee."

"Portland?" I was confused. I'd been in Downey, California, so I'd understand if he told me I was there or Los Angeles... or if he'd understood my last comment to him that I vaguely remembered telling him, then I could see being in Tacoma. But why Portland?

He could hear or see my perplexity, because he explained. "You have a pretty recognizable wound, Bella. Alice and I needed to find a way to explain it. Saying you randomly got shot by a rifle while you were in a motel in Tacoma wouldn't have cut it. We also couldn't keep you in California since we had to burn your grandmother's house down –" He broke off momentarily as he looked at me sadly "– I'm sorry about that. Anyways, Alice could see that would lead to millions of questions. Alice told me about the hunting cabin your friends owned here in Oregon that you sometimes stay at. It was the best thing we could figure."

I looked at him suspiciously, not quite understanding.

He sighed. "I called your dad and claimed that after I joined you in Tacoma on Monday and we spent the day talking to several of the instructors at the police academy we decided we didn't really want to go back for the second or third days. I wanted to spend some time with you alone – I made it clear to your dad that it was just to talk – and the cabin came up as we talked about where to go, so that was where we went. Once we were there and we'd been talking awhile, you went in the bedroom to grab something you wanted to show me, but when you were in there, a tree just happened to fall and hit the side of the cabin – Alice made this part verifiable. It caused one of the rifles to fall out of the rack, yours as it so happened. It apparently still had a round in the chamber and it went off when it fell."

"But Charlie knows I'd never accidentally leave a bullet in my gun." I frowned.

"He does," Edward agreed. "But he's also cop. He knows that mistakes sometimes happen, even with people who've owned and cared for guns for years. It's also possible that Harry, Sue or one of their kids used your gun when they went to the cabin after you guys and that _they_ accidentally left it loaded." He shook his head. "Anyways, I'm a doctor's son, so I used the suture kit at the cabin to stitch you up before I took you to the hospital. As far as your dad knows – Carlisle, Alice and Jasper came down after I called them and told them what happened to you. Your dad doesn't know whether to be pissed off at me and ban me from seeing you ever again or be grateful as hell that I was there when it happened."

"What about my ribs?" I knew I'd broken some.

Edward grimaced. "Alice made and then sewed up an exit wound for the bullet. Of course... officially I sewed that up." He gently touched a place just under my breast. "Your doctor here thinks you're the luckiest person he's ever seen. The bullet managed to miss everything vital. Even though it did break two of your ribs... and you hit your head when you fell after getting shot."

I could have sworn one of my ribs had pierced my lung... but if he said nothing vital had been hit than I'd count that as pure luck.

"You've got some bruises that were more difficult to explain, but what Alice and I came up with was that you volunteered to do a practice session with the taekwondo instructor at the police academy. If anybody like your dad decides to verify that fact and asks, the person obviously will have never seen you, but when they check their logs, they'll see you signed it." He took my hand, holding it gently. "Alice is always thorough," he added after he noticed my grimace.

"Has Charlie called my mom yet?"

"Yes, she was quite upset from what I overheard through the phone, but –" Edward stopped as if uncertain how to say it.

"But she's not going to come. It's alright."

"It's not," he said angrily. "You're her daughter. She should care and be here."

"She does care, Edward. She just shows it a different way." I closed my eyes.

"They gave you a few transfusions. I didn't like it – it made you smell all wrong for a while." He suddenly said.

I opened my eyes to look at him again. "That must have been a nice change for you."

"No, I like how _you_ smell."

"How did you do it?" I asked quietly. He knew what I meant at once.

"I'm not sure." He looked away from my wondering eyes, lifting my gauze-wrapped hand from the bed and holding it gently in his, careful not to disrupt the wire connecting me to one of the monitors. I waited patiently for the rest.

He sighed without returning my gaze. "It was impossible... to stop," he whispered. "Impossible. But I did." He looked up finally, with half a smile. "I _must_ love you."

"Don't I taste as good as I smell?" I smiled in response. That hurt my face.

"Even better – better than I'd imagined."

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Of all the things to apologize for."

"What _should_ I apologize for?"

"For very nearly taking yourself away from me forever."

"I'm sorry," I apologized again.

"I know why you did it." His voice was comforting. "It was still irrational, of course. You should have waited for me, you should have told me."

"You wouldn't have let me go."

"No," he agreed in a grim tone. "I wouldn't."

Some very unpleasant memories were beginning to come back to me. I shuddered, and then winced.

He was instantly anxious. "Bella, what's wrong?"

"What happened to James?"

"After I pulled him off you, Emmett and Jasper took care of him." There was a fierce note of regret in his voice.

This confused me. "I didn't see Emmett and Jasper there."

"They had to leave the room... there was too much blood."

"But you stayed."

"Yes, I stayed."

"And Alice...?" I said in wonder.

"She loves you, too, you know. Actually, so does Jasper. You still haven't had a real chance to meet Emmett... though he likes the excitement you've brought to our lives so far." Edward shook his head.

A flash of painful images from the last time I'd seen Alice reminded me of something. "Did Alice see the tape?" I asked anxiously.

"Yes." A new sound darkened his voice, a tone of sheer hatred.

"She was always in the dark, that's why she didn't remember."

"I know. She understands now." His voice was even, but his face was black with fury.

I tried to reach his face with my free hand, but something stopped me. I glanced down to see the IV pulling at my hand.

"Ugh." I winced.

"What is it?" he asked anxiously – distracted, but not enough. The bleakness did not entirely leave his eyes.

"Needles," I explained, looking away from the one in my hand. I concentrated on a warped ceiling tile and tried to breathe deeply despite the ache in my ribs.

"Afraid of a needle," he muttered to himself under his breath, shaking his head. "Oh, a sadistic vampire, intent on torturing her to death, sure, no problem, she runs off to meet him. An _IV,_ on the other hand..."

I rolled my eyes. I was pleased to discover that this reaction, at least, was pain-free.

"How do I explain the wound on my hand?" I asked.

"Broken mirror at the motel you stayed at Sunday night in Tacoma."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's verifiable, I assure you. Alice had a little bit too much fun fabricating all the evidence for this. You could sue the motel if you wanted. You have nothing to worry about," he promised, stroking my cheek with the lightest of touches. "Your only job now is to heal."

I wasn't so lost to the soreness or the fog of medication that I didn't respond to his touch. The beeping of the monitor jumped around erratically – now he wasn't the only one who could hear my heart misbehave.

"That's going to be embarrassing," I muttered to myself.

He chuckled, and a speculative look came into his eye. "Hmm, I wonder..."

He leaned in slowly; the beeping noise accelerated wildly before his lips even touched me. But when they did, though with the most gentle of pressure, the beeping stopped altogether.

He pulled back abruptly, his anxious expression turning to relief as the monitor reported the restarting of my heart.

"It seems that I'm going to have to be even more careful with you than usual." He frowned.

"I was not finished kissing you," I complained. "Don't make me come over there."

He grinned, and bent to press his lips lightly to mine. The monitor went wild.

But then his lips were taut. He pulled away.

"I think I hear your father," he said, grinning again.

"Don't leave me," I cried, an irrational surge of panic flooding through me. I couldn't let him go – he might disappear from me again.

He read the terror in my eyes for a short second. "I won't," he promised solemnly, and then he smiled. "I'll take a nap."

He moved from the hard plastic chair by my side to the turquoise faux-leather recliner at the foot of my bed, leaning it all the way back, and closing his eyes. He was perfectly still.

"Don't forget to breathe," I whispered, only half sarcastically, because my dad would definitely notice it if he didn't. He took a deep breath, his eyes still closed.

I could hear Charlie now. He was talking quietly to someone, but as I could hear no one replying, I assumed he was on a phone. He sounded tired in more than just a physical way. I wanted to jump out of the bed and run to him, to calm him, promise that everything was fine. But I wasn't in any sort of shape for jumping, so I waited impatiently.

After he stopped talking, the door opened a crack, and he looked in.

"Dad!" I whispered, my voice full of love and relief.

He took in Edward's still form on the recliner, and walked quietly over to my bedside.

"He never leaves, does he?" he grumbled to himself.

"Dad, I'm so glad to see you!"

He bent down to hug me gently, and I felt a warm tear fall on my cheek.

"You scared me, kid," he mumbled, his voice half choked.

"I'm fine, dad. I promise."

"Just what the _hell_ were you thinking anyways?" He pulled back enough to glare at me, though it was mostly ruined by the fact that his eyes were watery.

"I was thinking I wanted to get to know Edward. I promise that all we did was talk." I sighed, hating what I was about to say, but knowing I had to sell this stupid story. "I know you aren't going to like hearing it, but if _this_ hadn't happened, I'd have come home when I was supposed to and you'd have never known I even went there."

He grunted at that. "I'm just glad to see your eyes opened. In spite of the doctor's assurances that your injuries were all relatively minor and it was just shock keeping you asleep, I was concerned."

I suddenly realized I didn't have any idea _when_ it was. "How long have I been out?"

"It's Friday, you've been out for a while."

"Friday?" I was shocked. It had been Wednesday morning when everything had happened... "Crap. I missed Thanksgiving. I'm so sorry, dad."

"I'm not concerned about that. I just want to get you home," he said gruffly.

I grimaced, and decided to get the awkward question out of the way. "What did mom say?"

"She's found a house in Florida to move into because Phil got signed with The Suns. She thinks you'd like it there. I'm not sure that it wouldn't be better for you." He was glowering at Edward as he said the last bit.

If I was attached to IVs I'd cross my arms over my chest petulantly. "Crocodiles, alligators, pythons, cottonmouths, copperheads, coral snakes, and pacus. With _my_ luck, I'll get eat by that last one, too."

Charlie snorted, but I still saw his slight grin.

"Besides, I don't want to live with mom." I'd had several opportunities over the years.

"But..."

"But nothing. I might have decided to go to the cabin even if Edward hadn't been along. You know how I like going to the hunting cabin. If this had happened without him there..." I made a half shrug, wincing.

He sighed, then changed the subject. "Well, I suppose I should tell you. The attorney for your grandmother's estate called and asked for you to call and speak with them when you're able. He wouldn't say what it was about, but considering that a stolen Porsche was left in front of a house in her neighborhood that was supposedly burned down Wednesday night – as per CNN – I can take a wild guess what it's about."

I grimaced.

He was looking at Edward again. "You know, I'm relatively sure he loves you. It's the only reason I didn't ban him from seeing you after I got here."

"He does," I said softly. "I love him too."

"You're too young for love," Charlie grumbled under his breath.

"It can't really surprise you, can it? I've always known what I've wanted, after all."

"Yeah." He didn't sound all that happy about it.

I knew he sometimes wished I'd gotten a few more of my mother's traits and less of his... but the truth was I was like him. I'd always been like him. I knew the things I wanted from my life and I wasn't the type that changed my mind – just like him.

He yawned then and I frowned deeply in suspicion.

"When's the last time you slept, dad?"

He grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, _"Noisy daughters should mind their own business,"_ before he replied with, "Two days ago." It was still halfway under his breath.

"Dad!" I groaned. "Go rent a hotel and get some sleep."

"I don't need to sleep. I'm fine."

 _Really_? "Two months of rice and chanterelles for supper."

He gave me a horrified look. "You wouldn't."

"I would. I do the shopping and the cooking, remember?" I wouldn't of course. That was torture for me as much as for him, but if he believed I would, he'd go get some sleep I was certain he needed.

He grumbled something, this time too quiet for me to hear, before glaring at me. "Fine, I'll go get some sleep."

"Good." I smiled.

The nurse came in at the same time that he left. She looked over the paper readout of my heart monitor.

"Are you feeling anxious, honey? Your heart rate got a little high for awhile."

"I'm fine," I assured her.

"I'll tell your RN that you're awake. She'll be in to see you in a minute."

As soon as she closed the door, Edward was at my side.

"You stole a car?" I raised my eyebrows.

He smiled, unrepentant. "It was a good car, very fast."

"How was your nap?" I asked.

"Interesting." His eyes narrowed slightly.

"What?"

"I think you should move to Florida, Bella."

I stared at him uncomprehendingly. "But you'd be stuck inside all day in Florida. You'd only be able to come out at night, just like a real vampire."

He almost smiled, but not quite. And then his face was grave. "I would stay in Forks, Bella. Or somewhere like it," he explained. "Someplace where I couldn't hurt you anymore."

It didn't sink in at first. I continued to stare at him blankly as the words one by one clicked into place in my head like a ghastly puzzle. I was barely conscious of the sound of my heart accelerating, though, as my breathing became hyperventilation, I _was_ aware of the sharp aching in my protesting ribs. He didn't say anything; he watched my face warily as the pain that had nothing to do with broken bones, pain that was infinitely worse, threatened to crush me.

And then another nurse walked purposefully into the room. Edward sat still as stone as she took in my expression with a practiced eye before turning to the monitors.

"Time for more pain meds, sweetheart?" she asked kindly, tapping the IV feed.

"No, no," I mumbled, trying to keep the agony out of my voice. "I don't need anything." I couldn't afford to close my eyes now.

"No need to be brave, honey. It's better if you don't get too stressed out; you need to rest." She waited, but I just shook my head.

"Okay," she sighed. "Hit the call button when you're ready."

She gave Edward a stern look, and threw one more anxious glance at the machinery, before leaving.

His cool hands were on my face; I stared at him with wild eyes.

"Shhh, Bella, calm down."

"Don't you dare leave me." The words were twisted – with a mix of rage and pain – into a voice I didn't recognize as being my own.

"I won't," he promised. "Now relax before I call the nurse back to sedate you."

But my heart couldn't slow.

"Bella." He stroked my face anxiously. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here as long as you need me."

"Do you swear you won't leave me?" I whispered. I tried to control the gasping, at least. My ribs were throbbing.

He put his hands on either side of my face and brought his face close to mine. His eyes were wide and serious. "I swear."

The smell of his breath was soothing. It seemed to ease the ache of my breathing. He continued to hold my gaze while my body slowly relaxed and the beeping returned to a normal pace. His eyes were dark, closer to black than gold today.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes," I said cautiously.

He shook his head and muttered something unintelligible. I thought I picked out the word "overreaction."

"Why did you say that?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Are you tired of having to save me all the time? Do you _want_ me to go away?"

"No, I don't want to be without you, Bella, of course not. Be rational. And I have no problem with saving you, either – if it weren't for the fact that I was the one putting you in danger... that I'm the reason that you're here."

"Yes, you are the reason." I frowned. "The reason I'm here – _alive._ "

"Barely." His voice was just a whisper. "Broken and injured, with over half of your blood lost."

"I wasn't referring to my most recent near-death experience," I said, getting more irritated by the second. "I was thinking of the others – you can take your pick. If it weren't for you, I would be rotting away in the Forks cemetery."

He winced at my words, but the haunted look didn't leave his eyes.

"That's not the worst part, though," he continued to whisper. He acted as if I hadn't spoken. "Not seeing you there on the floor... crumpled and broken." His voice was choked. "Not thinking I was too late. Not even hearing you scream in pain – all those unbearable memories that I'll carry with me for the rest of eternity. No, the very worst was feeling... knowing that I couldn't stop. Believing that I was going to kill you myself."

"But you didn't."

"I could have. So easily."

I knew I needed to stay calm... but he was trying to talk himself into leaving me, and the panic fluttered in my lungs, trying to get out.

"Promise me," I whispered.

"What?"

"You know what." I was about to throw a colossal fit. He was so stubbornly determined to dwell on the negative.

He heard the change in my tone. His eyes tightened. "I don't seem to be strong enough to stay away from you, so I suppose that you'll get your way... whether it kills you or not," he added roughly.

"Good." He hadn't promised, though – a fact that I had not missed. The panic was only barely contained; I had no strength left to control the anger. "You told me how you stopped... now I want to know why," I demanded.

"Why?" he repeated warily.

" _Why_ you did it. Why didn't you just let the venom spread? By now I would be just like you."

Edward's eyes seemed to turn flat black, and I remembered that this was something he'd never intended me to know. Alice must have been preoccupied by the things she'd learned about herself... or she'd been very careful with her thoughts around him – clearly, he'd had no idea that she'd filled me in on the mechanics of vampire conversions. He was surprised, and infuriated. His nostrils flared, his mouth looked as if it was chiseled from stone.

He wasn't going to answer, that much was clear.

"I'll be the first to admit that I have limited experience with relationships," I said. "But it just seems logical... a man and woman have to be somewhat equal... as in, one of them can't always be swooping in and saving the other one. They have to save each other _equally._ "

He folded his arms on the side of my bed and rested his chin on his arms. His expression was smooth, the anger reined in. Evidently he'd decided he wasn't angry with _me._ I hoped I'd get a chance to warn Alice before he caught up with her.

"You _have_ saved me," he said quietly.

I didn't know which was to blame for the next word that came out of my mouth. I wasn't sure if it was the pain, the aggravation, or the meds I was on, but I still said it. "Bullshit." I looked away.

His hand grabbed my chin forcing me to look at back at him. "You have, Bella. You have no idea just how much you saved me."

"I know Jasper and Alice claimed you're the happiest, the most... alive, that you've ever been. But you apparently don't want me around forever. Hell, you keep on looking for excuses to leave. I can't really mean that much to you." I closed my eyes because he still hadn't released my chin and I didn't want to look at him any longer.

"You don't know what you're asking." His voice was soft.

I noticed immediately that he didn't disagree with my assessment. "I think I do."

"Bella, you _don't_ know. I've had almost ninety years to think about this, and I'm still not sure."

"Do you wish that Carlisle hadn't saved you?"

"No, I don't wish that." He paused before continuing. "But my life was over. I wasn't giving anything up."

"You _are_ my life. You're the only thing it would hurt me to lose." I was getting better at this. It was easy to admit how much I needed him.

He was very calm, though. Decided.

"I can't do it, Bella. I won't do that to you."

"Why not?" My throat rasped and the words weren't as loud as I'd meant them to be. "Don't tell me it's too hard! After today, or I guess it was a couple days ago... anyway, after _that,_ it should be nothing."

Even though my eyes were closed, I could feel him glaring at me.

"And the pain?" he asked.

I blanched. I couldn't help it. But I tried to keep my expression from showing how clearly I remembered the feeling... the fire in my veins.

"That's my problem," I said. "I can handle it."

"It's possible to take bravery to the point where it becomes insanity."

"It's not an issue. Three days. Big deal."

"Charlie?" he asked curtly. "Renee?"

Minutes passed in silence as I struggled to answer his question. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I closed it again. He waited, and his expression became triumphant because he knew I had no true answer.

"Look, that's not an issue either," I finally muttered; my voice was as unconvincing as it always was when I lied. "Charlie's resilient, and I can't take care of them forever. I have my own life to live."

"Exactly," he snapped. "And I won't end it for you."

"If you're waiting for me to be on my deathbed, I've got news for you! I was just there!"

"You're going to recover," he reminded me.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, ignoring the spasm of pain it triggered. I opened my eyes to stare at him, and he stared back. There was no compromise in his face.

"No," I said slowly. "I'm not."

His forehead creased. "Of course you are. You may have a scar or two..."

"You're wrong," I insisted. "I'm going to die."

"Really, Bella." He was anxious now. "You'll be out of here in a few days. A week or two at most."

I glared at him. "I may not die now... but I'm going to die sometime. Every minute of the day, I get closer. And I'm going to get _old._ "

He frowned as what I was saying sunk in, pressing his long fingers to his temples and closing his eyes. "That's how it's supposed to happen. How it should happen. How it would have happened if I didn't exist – and _I shouldn't exist._ "

I snorted. He opened his eyes in surprise. "That's stupid. That's like going to someone who's just won the lottery, taking their money, and saying, 'Look, let's just go back to how things should be. It's better that way.' And I'm not buying it."

"I'm hardly a lottery prize," he growled.

"That's right. You're much better."

He rolled his eyes and set his lips. "Bella, we're not having this discussion anymore. I refuse to damn you to an eternity of night and that's the end of it."

"If you think that's the end, then you don't know me very well," I warned him. "You're not the only vampire I know."

His eyes went black again. "Alice wouldn't dare."

In spite of the rage in his eyes that made have a hard time believing anyone would... the fact that he jumped immediately to Alice and not Carlisle – the one I'd been talking about – made me wonder if perhaps she _would_.

"I heard her, at the house, she wants me as I sister. And I heard her when she said she saw it happening."

"She's wrong. She also saw you dead, but that didn't happen, either."

"You'll never catch _me_ betting against Alice."

We stared at each other for a very long time. It was quiet except for the whirring of the machines, the beeping, the dripping, the ticking of the big clock on the wall. Finally, his expression softened.

"So where does that leave us?" I wondered.

He chuckled humorlessly. "I believe it's called an _impasse._ "

I sighed. "Ouch," I muttered.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, eyeing the button for the nurse.

"I'm fine," I lied.

"I don't believe you," he said gently.

"I'm not going back to sleep."

"You need rest. All this arguing isn't good for you."

"So give in," I hinted.

"Nice try." He reached for the button.

"No!"

He ignored me.

"Yes?" the speaker on the wall squawked.

"I think we're ready for more pain medication," he said calmly, ignoring my furious expression.

"I'll send in the nurse." The voice sounded very bored.

"I won't take it," I promised.

He looked toward the sack of fluids hanging beside my bed. "I don't think they're going to ask you to swallow anything."

My heart rate started to climb. He read the fear in my eyes, and sighed in frustration.

"Bella, you're in pain. You need to relax so you can heal. Why are you being so difficult? They're not going to put any more needles in you now."

"I'm not afraid of the needles," I mumbled. "I'm afraid to close my eyes."

Then he smiled his crooked smile, and took my face between his hands. "I told you I'm not going anywhere. Don't be afraid. As long as it makes you happy, I'll be here."

I smiled back, ignoring the ache in my cheeks. "You're talking about forever, you know."

"Do you know the most beautiful thing about being human?" he asked me. "Things change."

My eyes narrowed. "Don't hold your breath."

He was laughing when the nurse came in, brandishing a syringe.

"Excuse me," she said brusquely to Edward.

He got up and crossed to the end of the small room, leaning against the wall. He folded his arms and waited. I kept my eyes on him, still apprehensive. He met my gaze calmly.

"Here you go, honey." The nurse smiled as she injected the medicine into my tube. "You'll feel better now."

"Thanks," I mumbled, unenthusiastic. It didn't take long. I could feel the drowsiness trickling through my bloodstream almost immediately.

"That ought to do it," she muttered as my eyelids drooped.

She must have left the room, because something cold and smooth touched my face.

"Stay." The word was slurred.

"I will," he promised. His voice was beautiful, like a lullaby. "Like I said, as long as it makes you happy... as long as it's what's best for you."

I tried to shake my head, but it was too heavy. "'S not the same thing," I mumbled.

He laughed. "Don't worry about that now, Bella. You can argue with me when you wake up."

I think I smiled. "Kay."

I could feel his lips at my ear.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Me, too."

"I know." He laughed quietly.

I turned my head slightly... searching. He knew what I was after. His lips touched mine gently.

"Thanks," I sighed.

"Anytime."

I wasn't really there at all anymore. But I fought against the stupor weakly. There was just one more thing I wanted to tell him.

"Edward?" I struggled to pronounce his name clearly.

"Yes?"

"I'm betting on Alice," I mumbled.

The darkness started to completely wash over me as I began to lose consciousness, but as it did, I was almost a hundred percent certain I heard a muttered, "So am I."


	25. Chapter 24 - Impasse

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **AN:** I want to start by saying that this chapter was hard for me to write. I also want to say that some may feel that this chapter paints Edward in a bad light and he's too ooc. For the record, I don't see it that way. I don't hate Edward and this chapter is not meant to make anyone hate him. The thing is that there are parts of the Twilight Saga that do paint Edward as possessive, controlling, jealous, egotistical and misogynistic towards Bella. I'm not sure that he was intended to be shone in that light in the books, but it does come through for me, and because I can see those things, I'm using them. Ultimately, for some people, love is easy and you instantly know how to react and treat the person you love... but for most, love is hard. It takes time to learn what is right and what is wrong.

 **Chapter 24 – Impasse**

Over a month had passed since I'd been shot. A month where Edward coddled me from a safe distance. He was always there whenever I needed anything and he'd won over my dad in a way that I'd never thought I'd see. For that first week after we got home, Edward was always there with my pain meds when I needed it, with my food, and more.

He'd always be waiting outside of whatever class I was taking when it was done and would walk me to the next class. He also continuously tried to help me with my homework. He was doting and concerned and treated me like glass.

In essence, Edward was the perfect boyfriend. But I didn't want perfect – I wanted normal. I wanted equality. I wanted to believe that he actually loved me, not just the idea of me... but as every day passed, it got harder and harder for me to believe it.

When winter break arrived, Charlie and I were supposed to go to the reservation for Christmas and spend the day with the Blacks, but then Carlisle and Esme invited us to their place for Christmas and we ended up going there instead – the first time we'd spent Christmas with someone other than the Blacks.

The day with the Cullens was fun. I watched as the Cullens each opened numerous gifts and found it amusing as they had to eat the meal they had prepared to keep Charlie from getting suspicious.

They ended up giving Charlie and me a gift of a week long fishing trip to Whitefish Bay Camp in Ontario for the coming summer.

It was a trip that my dad had been wanting to go on for years but it had never been something we could budget out and I was almost a hundred percent certain Edward must have picked it out of my dad's head. I was gracious about the gift – happy on a personal level even – but it was hard for me to swallow as I knew _exactly_ how much that trip cost.

It made the angel ornament I'd given to Esme, the leather bound notebook I'd give to Jasper, the vintage baseball I'd given to Emmett, the vinyl record of Debussy for Edward, the print of a picture of a Chicago hospital back in 1918 that I'd spent hours scouring the web for so another piece of their family history could be recorded on Carlisle's wall of pictures, the delicate crystal rose I'd gotten for Rosalie, and even the free flowing blue silk shirt in Alice's exact size all pale in comparison. My gifts had been from the heart, but they looked like foolish jokes in comparison to the fishing trip costing in the five digits.

By the time I went home that night, I felt so low that I closed and locked the window with the lock I'd had my dad install a few week prior. I knew it wouldn't really stop Edward if he wanted in my room, but I had hoped he would respect my need for privacy. I cried myself to sleep that night.

When I woke up the next morning, the window was no longer locked and Edward's scent in my room was stronger than ever.

Still, it wasn't until three days after Christmas that I realized the real reason for their decision to have us over for Christmas after Leah called in the morning to remind me to come to the wedding rehearsal dinner that evening as I still needed to meet the other two bridesmaids. Well, I knew Kendra Lamar, a daughter of Harry Clearwater's sister, Elizabeth, but I didn't really know Emily Young, though I had met her a few times before over the years.

The doorbell rang the instant I got off the phone with Leah.

I headed over to the front door and opened it, surprised to see both Edward and Alice.

"Hey," I said awkwardly, not sure what to make of Alice showing up with Edward.

Alice pushed past Edward and, by construct, me as she came into the house. "So, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Seattle with me for some shopping. All the good sales are going on at the moment. It would be an all day trip, but you'd have fun, I swear."

I still had metaphorical road rash from the one mall trip I'd done with Alice when I'd been on the run. "No thanks. You know I don't really like shopping. Besides, I have plans for this evening."

Alice pouted out her lip at me as I turned to look at her and Edward came in, shutting the door behind him. It was only then that I noticed she was wearing the shirt I'd bought her. "But I don't have anyone to shop with if you don't go."

"Have Jasper go along. He makes a better bag tree than I do anyways." I crossed my arms of my chest. I wasn't going to fall for that pout of hers.

"But you'll have _fun_. I promise."

She could promise me that the moon was actually pink too, it didn't mean I believed her.

"I have to go to a wedding rehearsal dinner later today. Maybe we can go shopping tomorrow or something," I muttered the last part, completely unwillingly, but figured she might get off my back if she knew I'd go sometime and I was certain she'd heard my mutter thanks to her vampire hearing.

"It's just a rehearsal dinner, it's not like you'll miss the actual wedding."

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's going on here? Why are you so determined to get me to go shopping today?"

Alice sighed and threw Edward a look. "So... when you decide to go to La Push your future disappears. Usually the only time I've ever had someone's future disappear is because they _no longer have one_."

My brow furrowed. "It's a wedding rehearsal dinner, not something like cliff diving –" which I was plenty good at "– I'll be perfectly fine, in spite of what you do or don't see."

Alice opened her mouth to reply but Edward stepped in front of her and spoke instead. "I don't know that and you can't ask me to take that risk where your safety is concerned. Go with Alice. It'll be good for you."

I took a step backwards, not liking the way he was demanding I do stuff, my nose scrunched in consternation when I suddenly realized something. "This is why you invited Charlie and me over for Christmas, wasn't it? We decided to go to La Push – as we do _every year_ – and our future disappeared so you orchestrated with your parents to get us to go to your place instead!"

He opened his mouth immediately as if to deny it so I glared at him. Finally he closed his mouth and shrugged.

Behind him, I heard Alice sigh.

"Alice, I think I need to talk with my boyfriend now. Alone." I didn't get up to see my friends at La Push as often as I would like during the school year, usually only able to make it up to see them on weekends or during holiday breaks, but I still _tried_ to see them. Over the last month, every time I'd made a plan to go see Jacob or any of my other friends, they had all been canceled because of some sort of idea Edward or some other member of his family had come up with. We'd gone out to eat in Port Angeles, out to movies – also in Port Angeles – gone miniature golfing, went to Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle the weekend before Christmas, and then had Christmas with their family.

I hadn't seen the pattern before, mostly because I hadn't wanted to, but now that I had I wasn't the least bit happy about it. I was angry, more at myself than at Edward, but I wasn't happy with him either.

Alice stepped to the side looking at me guiltily before quickly leaving.

"I'm going to the wedding rehearsal dinner tonight, Edward." I didn't care if Alice was still in hearing distance.

"No, you're not."

"You can't stop me. It's my life, Edward, and those are my friends, people I have known my whole life. You cannot keep me from them."

"If it keeps you safe and alive than I certainly can." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"You aren't my father, Edward." I turned and walked away from him angrily.

"I am your boyfriend though." His words were soft, careful even.

"That doesn't give you a right to dictate my life, Edward. I grew up playing with Leah Clearwater and used to throw balls of wet sand into Sam Uley's face. They are as much my family as Charlie is. You have no right to even _ask_ me to stay away from them, let alone demand it."

"The wolves are dangerous. Sam could hurt you purely on accident."

"And I could role out of bed one night while I'm sleeping and conk my head against my end table as I do it. Or I could slip and fall in the shower. Or I could get in a head on collision with a semi. I can't live my life in fear of what _might happen_. I'm going tonight, whether you're okay with it or not."

"Not at the potential risk of your life!" His voice was angry again.

I spun to face him. "Yes, I can, and I will. Edward, that's the price of being human. We take risks every single day. Nothing can change that."

"So we're back to this being about the fact that I don't want to change you?"

"Frankly, Edward, it has nothing – and everything – to do with that. Since James, you don't kiss me anymore, you don't touch me, and worse than that you don't seem to respect or trust me. I know Sam and I know he would never hurt me. I also know how to defend myself." I opened my mouth to continue my tirade, but sighed and shook my head instead. When I finally opened my mouth to continue again, it was in a slightly different direction. "I swore to myself after I broke it off with Tyler that I would never date someone if there was nothing between us ever again. Yet somehow it's worse with you, at least with Tyler, neither of us was really attracted to the other, ours was a relationship of convenience and rebellion and that was it. But here you are, and I can _see you_ , Edward. I know you care about me deeply and possibly even truly love me. I know you have a pure soul, that your laughter and smile light up the room, that your smart and passionate, that you can be funny when you want to be, and that you are as beautiful on the inside as you are on the out. I know that I love you, and I know I want to spend my life with you if at all possible, but the reality is I'm not sure you want the same."

He looked somewhat confused again. "I've touched you and kissed you since James and of course I want you spend my life with you."

"No, you haven't. You give me pecks on the lips and occasionally hold my hand or brush a single finger down the side of my face, and it's true, every time you do those little things, it thrills me – my heart especially. I love that you do those things, and I don't want them to stop, but it isn't enough. I understand that you can't kiss me with tongue because of your venom, but I need more than your lips barely touching mine for a half of a second every couple of days. I need to actually be caressed and held and cherished, and you aren't giving me that. Instead, you treat me like glass, or like some fine china doll, but I am more than a doll.

"I would give _anything_ for you to be human with me and for there to be no barriers between us, but that isn't possible. If you could treat me as an equal, touch me, kiss me, truly _love_ me and us still be two different species, then I would be fine with that for whatever little amount of time we could have together – even if it would only be about ten years at the most. But I don't think you'll ever be able to give me even the smallest amount of equality unless I'm a vampire too." I closed my eyes so I didn't have to look into his anymore. "I'm not asking you to turn me today or when I graduate even, I'm just asking for someday, preferably before I look too old to be able to pass for a high school student the way the rest of you do. That way we can have forever and not just a decade."

"What do you mean by a decade? Even with you being human, you'll probably live another sixty or seventy years. We could have all of that. I know it would pale in comparison to forever, but I'd still be willing to be with you for that entire time."

"Edward, you're seventeen. When you move from one town to another, you all start out pretending as high school students, which means usually you're starting out at either fifteen or sixteen. In nine months I'll be eighteen and I'm going to continue to age. Between the states with older age of consent laws and things like Romeo and Juliet laws... there is a time limit that we have. Even if we never have a sexual relationship of _any sort_ , there's going to be a morality question that will come into play eventually. I won't be your dirty secret, Edward. I'm worth more than that." I opened my eyes just in time to see him flinch. I shrugged. "I'm sorry but it's true. I doubt I'll ever stop loving you but if you truly want me to remain human then you have to accept that I am going to physically outgrow you at some point, and at that point you'd need to let me go and move on with your life. But all of that is dependent on the here and now, because no matter how much I love you, I won't keep being with you if you keep treating me like some toy that you can play with at your heart's desire, because that isn't love, that's possession, and I won't be owned by anyone. I have my own needs and desires, and I'm not talking about needing to be fed or help with my homework. Most of all, I need you to trust that I am capable of making my own choices for myself and that I don't need a caretaker."

"You don't get it. If you die then I'll lose my entire reason for existence," he snarled.

I clenched my hands into fists. "Bullshit. You are not going to put that kind of weight on me. If you want me to stay human then you have to accept the consequence of that choice. Humans die, it's just part of life and given my propensity for injuries, my guess is my life is going to be shorter than most. You have to have already realized that. So don't you dare stand there and tell me that my life is so important to you that you will die if I do, because we both know that you don't intend to change me, which would be the one thing that would prevent that...

"So when my time comes, be it in the form of death – timely or otherwise – or when I finally do outgrow you and move on with my life, you need to move forward with yours and put me behind you."

"You're asking me to spend an eternity alone." He barely breathed the words, but somehow I still heard them.

"No, I'm not. You have a family that loves you and you have a heart that has the capacity to love again. So don't you dare say that my death is going to be the reason for yours."

I looked away for a moment, breathing harder than simply talking should have caused, for a minute there was no sound other than my own breathing.

Finally, Edward quietly said, "So where do we go from here?"

"As you said in the hospital. I believe it is called an _impasse_. Either way though, I think you should leave for now, because I am going to the wedding rehearsal dinner this evening, and I'm pretty sure we both need some time apart."

He didn't respond for a few seconds so I looked back at him.

"Okay," he agreed in quiet acquiesce.

. . .

I drove to the wedding rehearsal dinner in my truck because my dad was working late. When I arrived, it was only the Clearwaters and Emily so far at the small dinner party set up in the Quileute Council Building.

I hugged Leah before looking around. "Where's Sam? I'd thought he'd be here already."

"He said he'd be here by the time we're supposed to start but he had something he had to finish first. Supposedly it's council business, but I have no clue what." Leah threw a glare at her father

"Maybe he'll be able to tell you once you two are married," I said.

I was so tempted to say screw it and tell my friend what was going on with her fiance, but I couldn't do it, because in spite of everything it was costing her, it wasn't my secret to tell – not that she'd believe me even if I did.

I helped Emily and Leah finish setting up the tables with the silverware and the glasses filled with sparkling grape cider, even as her parents finished setting up the buffet table against the back wall. The food was simple; fried fish, french fries, green beans cooked in bacon fat, and a couple of other simple sides. It wasn't the type of food that was usually shown at these kind of dinners in shows and movies, but it was a hundred percent Leah and Sam, so it made sense.

I sat down at one of the few tables with my food just as the Blacks and Kendra Lamar came in. Kendra had two ancestrally rich backgrounds, on one side she was Quiluete – her mother's side – but on her father's side her ancestors haled from Ghana. It was because of her father's blood than her skin was a deep brown and she had thick black hair that fell down her back. Kendra was only sixteen, a year younger than me, but she already had several tattoos – in honor of her father's heritage, not her mom's.

Slowly others came in to take their places at the dinner, first Jared showed up, followed by Davey – Sam's best man – then Quil and his Grandpa arrived, and several Clearwaters and Uleys made their way in. In fact, everyone had arrived and gotten their food before the front door opened a final time and Sam stepped in.

Leah was seated at the largest table with her parents, brother, Sam's mom, Davey, and Emily with only one seat left open – the one for Sam. I was seated at the table closest to Leah's along with Jared, Paul, and Kendra. I'd taken the seat that faced the wall with the door, so I saw the instant that he walked in, and the instant his eyes locked with someone.

My first thought was he was looking at Leah, but I'd never seen quite that look of shock and awe before – like he was a blind man looking at the sun for the first time – so I glanced at the table. Emily was staring back at him.

I looked between the two before Sam finally broke the connection, looking down. He quickly walked over to the table with his shoulders slumped.

I was close enough to hear his murmured, "Leah, can I talk to you alone for a minute?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but when she looked up at his face, her mouth snapped shut and she nodded mutely, getting up from her chair. They went to a door that led to a small room and stepped inside.

I could hear some of the people whispering around me, but it appeared no one knew what was going on. Jared and Paul at my table shared an uneasy glance but didn't say anything.

I wasn't sure exactly how long they were in the room, though it couldn't been more than ten minutes, when suddenly we all heard a shouted, "Fuck you, Sam Uley!"

A second later, the room door was flung open and Leah raced out, running straight to the exit and leaving. Still, even though she kept her head down, I saw the tear streaks running down her face.

A moment later, Sam stepped out and he looked completely resolute, as well as miserable.

"Everyone should go home. The wedding's off," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear and then headed to the exit and left as well.

. . .

I stayed to help Harry, Sue, and Seth clean up but when I got home that night I couldn't help but wonder what the hell I'd actually witnessed.

* * *

 **AN:** So, one more chapter and then an interlude which will mark the halfway point of the story. After that will be Bella's birthday which is the final chapter where Bella is with Edward. For any Edward shippers who are reading this story, the Interlude should probable be where you get off, as you know what is got to happen on her birthday already.


	26. Chapter 25 - An Occasion

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Chapter 25 – An Occasion**

Edward helped me get into his car, being very careful of the wisps of silk and chiffon, as well as the flowers he'd just pinned into my elaborately styled curls. He ignored the stubborn set of my mouth.

When he had me settled, he got in the driver's seat of his Aston Martin Vanquish and headed back out the long, narrow drive.

"Can't we just go to Port Angeles or Olympia or Tacoma or Seattle?" I asked grumpily. I didn't want _to do_ this, but somehow I'd been roped into it. Not by Edward, ironically enough, but by his annoying little shrimp of a sister that I was going to find a way to kill for this.

It was February 19th, the day of the 'Crush Dance,' in honor of the holiday that featured far too many chocolates and roses for any sane person's desire. It was also in honor of the soda beverage, Crush. The cheerleading squad, headed up by Lauren – of all people – had been more than eager to run a "Crush for your Crush" campaign for the last month to drum up money for the coming summer's cheerleading camp. The whole gist of it was a person could spend two dollars to give a can of Crush anonymously to whoever you wanted. If you added an extra dollar you could send a note with it, and if you wanted spend five dollars you could give them a fancy glass bottle of crush – note included.

I'd ended up buying two of the bottles. I sent one to Mike with a note claiming it was from his secret gay admirer, and the other to Edward with a note with only three simple words.

Even so, I didn't want to _do this_. Dancing wasn't my thing, had truly never been my thing. I wasn't that kind of person.

Edward had seemed to at least take some of my words to heart, because he had started kissing me a little more freely after I'd come back from La Push that night more than a month and a half ago, but even so, he wasn't really listening. Alice was worse than him though.

She wheedled, pleaded, and begged until I had no choice but to give in. As was the case now. And being dressed in a giant pale orange poof dress was not my idea of fun. I didn't care how cute it made me look. I wasn't much for dresses at any time, and especially not when I was being forced into one for the sole purpose of Alice's Texas sized ego. I loved her... truly, I did. But there were moment when I really wished I could rip her throat out.

Edward smiled. "Sorry, but I'm pretty sure Alice would kill us both if we didn't go."

"Humph." I crossed my arms over my chest sourly. Then glanced at him again in his black tux with the pale orange tie – his only concession to the orange themed danced.

"I did mention that you looked very nice, didn't I?" I verified.

"Yes." He grinned again. I'd never seen him dress in black before, and, with the contrast against his pale skin, his beauty was absolutely surreal. That much I couldn't deny, even if the reason for the outfit made me want to find the nearest rock to hide under...

What could I say? I _really_ didn't like dances.

"What are you so worried about?" Edward asked softly.

"Falling and breaking my ankle or my neck or any other bone in my body, getting a concussion, getting some of the punch and not being aware it's spiked until after I'm already through my third glass and making a fool out of myself, and any number of other awkward situations I'd much prefer to avoid." I was grumbling by the end of my rant.

"Do you honestly think I'd let any of that happen to you?"

No, no I didn't. Not that I was going to give him the satisfaction of admitting that. "I don't know... Emmett tends to find it funny and I know he'll be there."

I'd seen the giant bright orange tux in their bathroom when Alice had been spending too many hours playing Bella Barbie with me that afternoon. The tux was too large for anyone other than him.

Edward turned his head to glare at me as he continued to drive the car. Even though I was used to him doing it almost every time he drove I still hated it, and so I glowered right back at him. Finally though, I sighed, looking back out the window of his car.

"No, I don't think you'd _let_ any of that happen, but that doesn't mean you'll be right next to me just when one of those possibilities occur, It's not like you can just zoom across the room if you're not near near me at that point."

"I won't let you go even once, Bella. I promise."

"You really can't make that promise, Edward."

"Why not?"

I was exasperated by the fact that he didn't get it. "You're taking me to a dance, Edward. A _high school_ dance, where almost all of my friends will be. Likely even some of the people from the Res will be there as they're invited to come since the high school in La Push doesn't have a budget for dances. They are going to want to dance with me and talk with me. There's no avoiding that once we get there."

He muttered something under his breath that I didn't quite catch as he pulled into the school parking lot next to Rosalie's red convertible.

He got out and walked around the car to open my door. He held out his hand.

I sat stubbornly in my seat, arms folded, feeling a secret twinge of smugness. The lot was crowded with people in formal dress: witnesses. He couldn't remove me forcibly from the car as he might have if we'd been alone.

He sighed. "When someone wants to kill you, you're brave as a lion – and then when someone mentions dancing..." He shook his head.

I really didn't like dancing.

"Bella, I won't let anything hurt you – not even yourself."

I sighed, but finally offered him my hand. I wasn't going to get out of the disaster that was waiting to happen, that much was clear.

He took my hand, helping me out of his low sitting car. "There, now, it won't be so bad."

He had no idea what he was saying.

When we headed inside the gym I couldn't help myself, I giggled. There were actual balloon arches and twisted garlands of crepe paper festooning the walls, all of it in varying shades of orange.

"This looks like a horror movie waiting to happen," I snickered.

"Well," he muttered as we slowly approached the ticket table. "There are _more_ than enough vampires present."

I looked at the dance floor; a wide gap had formed in the center of the floor, where two couples whirled gracefully. The other dancers pressed to the sides of the room to give them space – no one wanted to stand in contrast with such radiance. Emmett and Jasper were intimidating and flawless in tuxedos, Emmett in the bright orange one I'd seen in the bathroom at their house and Jasper in a classic black – I wondered where his orange was until I saw the pale orange shirt he had on under the jacket. Alice was striking in a papaya orange satin dress with geometric cutouts that bared large triangles of her snowy white skin. And Rosalie was... well, Rosalie. She was beyond belief. Her deep orange dress was backless, tight to her calves where it flared into a wide ruffled train, with a neckline that plunged to her waist. I pitied every girl in the room, myself included.

"Do you want me to bolt the doors so you can massacre the unsuspecting townsfolk?" I whispered conspiratorially.

"And where do you fit into that scheme?" He glared.

"Oh, I'm with the vampires, of course."

He smiled reluctantly. "Anything to get out of dancing."

"Anything."

He bought our tickets, then turned me toward the dance floor. I cringed against his arm and dragged my feet.

"I've got all night," he warned.

He hadn't realized it yet, but he really didn't. I could already feel eyes on me from several places around the room. People, my _friends_ – evil beings who were like going make me break my ankle tonight – were all over, and they would all want to dance with me since I was here. In fact, among the people at the dance were a handful of Quileutes, including Embry and Kendra standing next to one wall, both of them were staring at me with a look that promised pain for me.

Eventually he managed to tow me out to where his family was twirling elegantly – if in a style totally unsuitable to the present time and music. I watched in horror.

"Edward." My throat was so dry I could only manage a whisper. "I _honestly_ can't dance!" I could feel the panic bubbling up inside my chest.

"Don't worry, silly," he whispered back. "I _can._ " He put my arms around his neck and lifted me to slide his feet under mine.

And then we were whirling, too.

"I feel like I'm five years old," I laughed after a few minutes of effortless waltzing.

"You don't look five," he murmured, pulling me closer for a second, so that my feet were briefly a foot from the ground.

Alice caught my eye on a turn and smiled in encouragement – I smiled back. I was surprised to realize that I was actually enjoying myself... a little. I knew it couldn't last though. I'd seen Mike, Tyler, and Eric all over in one corner playing rock, paper, scissors as they'd been staring at Edward and me.

Edward suddenly started staring toward the doors, and his face was angry.

"What is it?" I wondered aloud. I followed his gaze, disoriented by the spinning, but finally I could see what was bothering him. Jacob Black, not in a tux, but in a long-sleeved white shirt and tie, his hair smoothed back into his usual ponytail, was crossing the floor toward us.

After the first shock of recognition, I couldn't help but feel bad for Jacob. He was clearly uncomfortable – excruciatingly so. His face was apologetic as his eyes met mine.

Edward snarled very quietly.

" _Be_ _have_!" I hissed.

Edward's voice was scathing. "He wants to chat with you."

Jacob reached us then, the embarrassment and apology even more evident on his face.

"Hey, Bella, I was hoping you would be here." Jacob sounded like he'd been hoping the exact opposite. But his smile was just as warm as ever.

"Hi, Jacob." I smiled back. "What's up?"

"Can I cut in?" he asked tentatively, glancing at Edward for the first time. I was shocked to notice that Jacob didn't need to look up. He must have grown several inches since I'd seen him at Leah's wedding rehearsal dinner only a month and a half ago.

Edward's face was composed, his expression blank. His only answer was to set me carefully on my feet, and take a step back.

"Thanks," Jacob said amiably.

Edward just nodded, looking at me intently before he turned to walk away.

Jacob put his hands on my waist, and I reached up to put my hands on his shoulders.

"Wow, Jake, just how tall are you now?"

He was smug. "Six feet tall."

We weren't really dancing – my ineptness made that a very difficult thing to do. Instead we swayed awkwardly from side to side without moving our feet. It was just as well; the recent growth spurt had left him looking gangly and uncoordinated, he was probably no better a dancer than I was.

I felt sick to my stomach though as my mind started to recognize the implication of what his grown spurt most likely meant. I'd seen how tall Sam, Paul and Jared all were.

"So, how did you end up here tonight?" I asked without true curiosity. Considering Edward's reaction, I could guess.

"Can you believe my dad paid me twenty bucks to come to your dance?" he admitted, slightly ashamed.

"Yes, I can," I muttered. "Well, I hope you're enjoying yourself, at least. Seen anything you like?" I teased, nodding toward a group of girls lined up against the wall like a bunch of oranges, peaches, and tangerines.

"Yeah," he sighed. "But she's taken."

He glanced down to meet my gaze for just a second – then we both looked away, embarrassed.

Of course, I knew how he felt about me, I'd known back when he'd first started crushing on me more than a year ago, so it was my own fault for teasing him, but I couldn't help but hope that he'd outgrow me. I doubted I'd ever be able to see him as anything other than a little brother.

"You look really pretty, by the way," he added shyly.

"Um, thanks. So why did Billy pay you to come here?" I asked quickly, though I knew the answer.

Jacob didn't seem grateful for the subject change; he looked away, uncomfortable again. "He said it was a 'safe' place to talk to you. I swear the old man is losing his mind."

I joined in his laughter weakly.

"Anyway, he said that if I told you something, he would get me that master cylinder I need," he confessed with a sheepish grin.

"Tell me, then. I want you to get your car finished." I grinned back. At least Jacob didn't believe any of it yet. It made the situation a bit easier. Against the wall, Edward was watching my face, his own face expressionless. I saw a sophomore in a pink-orange dress eyeing him with timid speculation, but he didn't seem to be aware of her.

Jacob looked away again, ashamed. "Don't get mad, okay?"

"There's no way I'll be mad at you, Jacob," I assured him. "I won't even be mad at Billy. Just say what you have to."

"Well – this is so stupid, I'm sorry, Bella – he wants you to break up with your boyfriend. He asked me to tell you 'please.'" He shook his head in disgust.

"He's still being superstitious, eh?"

"Yeah. He was... kind of over the top when you got hurt in Portland. He didn't believe..." Jacob trailed off self-consciously.

My eyes narrowed. "It was an accident. That tree in the back of the cabin had been unstable for years. It was pure bad luck that it happened to fall and knock that gun out of place." I knew Jacob had been to the Clearwaters' cabin before.

"I know that," Jacob agreed quickly.

"He thinks Edward had something to do with me getting hurt." It wasn't a question, and, despite my promise, I was angry.

Jacob wouldn't meet my eyes. We weren't even bothering to sway to the music, though his hands were still on my waist, and mine around his neck.

"Look, Jacob, I know Billy probably won't believe this, but just so you know –" he looked at me now, responding to the new earnestness in my voice "– Edward really did save my life. If it weren't for Edward, I'd be dead."

"I know," he claimed, but he sounded like my sincere words had affected him some. Maybe he'd be able to convince Billy of this much, at least.

"Hey, I'm sorry you had to come do this, Jacob," I apologized. "At any rate, you get your parts, right?"

"Yeah," he muttered. He was still looking awkward... upset.

"There's more?" I asked in disbelief.

"Forget it," he mumbled, "I'll get a job and save the money myself."

I glared at him until he met my gaze. "Just spit it out, Jacob."

"It's so bad."

"I don't care. Tell me," I insisted.

"Okay... but, geez, this sounds bad." He shook his head. "He said to tell you, no, to _warn_ you, that – and this is his plural, not mine –" he lifted one hand from my waist and made little quotation marks in the air "– 'We'll be watching.'" He watched warily for my reaction.

It didn't sound bad, it sounded like a threat, and with his current growth spurt I suspected the threat would soon include him. There was nothing I could do to change that though. I wasn't going to walk away from the man that I loved just because of their opinions of my relationship. I wasn't a hypocrite, and leaving Edward after all the times that I'd told him my opinion on that subject would make me one – as well as make me a coward.

I sighed. "Sorry you had to do this, Jake." I smiled at him gently.

"I don't mind _that_ much." He grinned in relief. His eyes were appraising as they raked quickly over my dress. "So, should I tell him you said to butt the hell out?" he asked hopefully.

"No," I sighed. "Tell him I said thanks. I know he means well."

The song ended, and I dropped my arms.

His hands hesitated at my waist. "Do you want to dance again?"

He barely finished the question when Kendra suddenly stepped up. "I want to dance with my friend now. Thank you very much." She stuck her tongue out at Jake.

"Embry's over there with Jessica and some of the others from the res," I said, nodding my head towards where they were all standing.

Jacob looked between the door and his friends a few times before finally heading over to them.

Over the next hour I was forced to dance with Kendra, Mike, Tyler, Jessica, Eric, Angela, Embry, and half a dozen others. Just as I'd told Edward, there was no way to keep me to himself at a dance. In fact, it wasn't until Mike tried to rally for his third dance with me that Edward managed to wrangle me away from my friends and back into his arms.

Edward's quiet growl aimed at Mike made me roll my eyes heavenward. "He's just a friend, Edward."

"He's getting on my last nerve."

We danced together for the next two songs, but I finally needed to know why the dance had been so important to him and Alice.

"So are you going to explain the reason for all of this?" I wondered.

He looked down at me, confused, and I glared meaningfully at the crepe paper.

He considered for a moment, and then changed direction, spinning me through the crowd to the back door of the gym. I caught a glimpse of Jessica and Mike dancing, staring at me curiously. Jessica waved, and I smiled back quickly. Angela was there, too, looking blissfully happy in the arms of little Ben Cheney; she didn't look up from his eyes, a head lower than hers. Lee and Samantha dancing in a world of their own. Lauren, glaring toward us, with Conner; I could name every face that spiraled past me. And then we were outdoors, in the cool, dim light of a fading sunset.

As soon as we were alone, he swung me up into his arms, and carried me across the dark grounds till he reached the bench beneath the shadow of the madrone trees. He sat there, keeping me cradled against his chest. The moon was already up, visible through the gauzy clouds, and his face glowed pale in the white light. His mouth was hard, his eyes troubled.

"The point?" I prompted softly.

He ignored me, staring up at the moon.

"Twilight, again," he murmured. "Another ending. No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end."

I glared at him angrily, his continued casual references that made me believe he still had one foot out the door made me wish I was strong enough to slap him and make it hurt.

He sighed.

"I brought you to this dance, as I intend to take you to prom," he said slowly, finally answering my question, "because I don't want you to miss anything. I don't want my presence to take anything away from you, if I can help it. I want you to be _human._ I want your life to continue as it would have if I'd died in nineteen-eighteen like I should have."

I shuddered at his words, and then shook my head angrily. "In what strange parallel dimension would I _ever_ have gone to any dance of my own free will? If you weren't a thousand times stronger than me, I would never let you get away with this."

He smiled briefly, but it didn't touch his eyes. "It wasn't so bad, you said so yourself."

"That's because I was with you."

We were quiet for a minute; he stared at the moon and I stared at him. I wished there was some way to explain how very unimportant his idea of _normal_ high school experiences were to me.

"Will you tell me something?" he asked, glancing down at me with a slight smile.

"Don't I always?"

"Just promise you'll tell me," he insisted, grinning.

I knew I was going to regret this almost instantly. "Fine."

"Why is it you want to be immortal so badly? You have a whole life here."

Yes, instant regret. I pursed my lips, hesitating. "I don't want to tell you."

"You promised," he objected.

"I know."

"What's the problem?"

"I think it will make you mad – or sad."

His brows pulled together over his eyes as he thought that through. "I still want to know. Please?"

I sighed. He waited.

"Look, it's not about immortality so much as it's about finally being a part of something that makes my life worth while. Most of my friends in there are going places – they literally have the world at their fingertips with families that love them and some idea of what they want. Me, while it's true I've always wanted to be a cop, that's about the extent of my desires. I don't want to be a mother, have never been the type to want to have a white picket fence, and I'm not the kind of person that believes I'll ever make some sort of grand discovery or anything like that.

"It's true, I sometimes claim that my dad would be a shell of himself without me... but in reality, I often wonder if I'm the person that's held him back from moving on with his life. Perhaps if I'd never been born both him and my mom would be much happier people. And while it's true that I have dozens of friends, I'm still on the fringe of it all. I'm not like the guys; Rob, Mike, JD, Lee, Tyler, DJ and the lot of them. You'll never see me at a football game cheering them on or getting drunk at a bonfire with them. I'm not like the girls – I'm not into clothes, gossip or any of that kind of stuff. I'm a loner in many ways. And then there's you and your family, and it's the first time in all my life that I feel somewhat like there's a real place and future for me. It isn't about the immortality, it's about family, friendship, a bond..."

"And why does immortality have to be a part of being in my family?"

"How can it not? Of the seven of you, only Carlisle and Rosalie seem mostly unaffected by bloodlust. I graduate next school year and then I go off to college while you still have two more years here as a high school student at that point, but then what? If I went with you guys when you left, what would it mean for me? There's no way I could live in your house with me being human. So what does that give me as an option? I'd probably have to move into some apartment or house by myself – a place you'd probably insist on paying for..." I shook my head and didn't finish my thought. He didn't seem to realize how much I'd thought about what it would mean for us after high school if he and I stayed together. But I'd already realized that if they moved and I went with them as a human... the cost to me would be high.

He sighed deeply. "And you're really that willing?"

The pain was back in his eyes. I bit my lip and nodded.

"So ready for this to be the end," he murmured, almost to himself, "for this to be the twilight of your life, though your life has barely started. You're ready to give up everything."

"It's not the end, it's the beginning," I disagreed under my breath.

"I'm not worth it," he said sadly.

"Do you remember when you told me that I didn't see myself very clearly?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "You obviously have the same blindness."

"I know what I am."

I sighed.

But his mercurial mood shifted on me. He pursed his lips, and his eyes were probing. He examined my face for a long moment.

"You're ready now, then?" he asked.

"Um." I gulped, because _hell no_ , I still remembered the damn pain. "Yes?"

He smiled, and inclined his head slowly until his cold lips brushed against the skin just under the corner of my jaw.

"Right now?" he whispered, his breath blowing cool on my neck. I shivered involuntarily.

"Yes," I whispered, so my voice wouldn't have a chance to break. If he thought I was bluffing, he was going to be disappointed. I'd already made this decision, and I was sure. It didn't matter that my body was rigid as a plank, my hands balled into fists, my breathing erratic...

He chuckled darkly, and leaned away. His face did look disappointed.

"You can't really believe that I would give in so easily," he said with a sour edge to his mocking tone.

"A girl can dream."

His eyebrows rose. "Is that what you dream about? Being a monster?"

"Not exactly," I said, frowning at his word choice. Monster, indeed. "Mostly I dream about being with you forever."

His expression changed, softened and saddened by the subtle ache in my voice.

"Bella." His fingers lightly traced the shape of my lips. "I _will_ stay with you – for however much time we have – isn't that enough?"

I smiled under his fingertips. "Enough for now."

He frowned at my tenacity. No one was going to surrender tonight. He exhaled, and the sound was practically a growl.

I touched his face. "Look," I said. "I love you more than everything else in the world combined. Isn't that enough?"

"Yes, it is enough," he answered, smiling. "Enough for forever."

And he leaned down to press his cold lips once more to my throat.


	27. Interlude

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **Interlude**

Over the months that passed after that, I fell even more deeply in love with both Edward and his family.

My father and I ended up going to the Clearwaters' hunting cabin for spring break even though my father was reluctant to do so. We bought tags for both black bears and cougars and managed to kill exactly none. As we traipsed through the woods together to try to hunt either, I couldn't help but wonder what Edward would think if he'd known that was what we were hunting. When we got back at the end of spring break, I decided against asking.

Edward and I were together, happy, and in love. I couldn't make myself rock the delicate boat that we seemed to be on together. I just wanted to continue to be this blissed out couple, wanted him to decide to turn me, wanted him to be a part of my life for as long as possible. It was easy, during that spring – and then the summer after – to pretend that everything was perfect.

The dreaded prom was the one sour note in the months that led up to summer, because in spite of my continued insistence that I didn't want to go, I was once again forced to – dressed in a blue silk evening gown that felt like it had been one size too small but Alice had told me was exactly right. The prom was held with a Monte Carlo theme and almost everyone was wearing royal blues, matte blacks, or shimmering whites.

The time seemed to fly by and before I knew it school quickly ended for the year.

When summer arrived, it brought on some of the best months of my life. I didn't know it at the time, but I would never forget that summer.

In early June my father and I went to the fishing excursion in Ontario, and the week in Ontario fishing with my dad was very enjoyable with us catching several pikes, walleyes, muskies, and more. My dad pushed me into the lake at least once every day that we went out on the lake on a boat. It was fun, freeing in a way that almost nothing else had ever been.

After we came back home and the summer started in full force, I ended up taking a part time job at Newton's Olympic Outfitters. I spent most of my mornings stocking shelves, checking people out, and doing rush google searches to find out what the difference was between water repellent and water resistant.

In the afternoons I spent some with the Cullens, some with my friends around Forks, and the rest with my friends in La Push. I went to two different bonfires over the course of the summer with Sam, Jared, Paul, and Kim. At the first of the two bonfires that I went to I got to hear about their origin stories, imprinting and more. I grew to understand the way they saw vampires, learned to accept where their reluctance and mistrust came from, and grew to admire their strong resolves.

During the summer I tried to stand by both Leah and Sam which was exceedingly difficult because I had no way to make Leah understand why Sam dumped her without telling her about his secret, and I _couldn't_ tell her that. I watched as Sam struggled to reach out to Emily and then I saw the aftermath after he accidentally shifted and flayed Emily's right side of her body from hairline to thigh. I saw his grief and even practically felt it as if it was my own as I continued to be a friend to him and the rest of the pack.

I also spent some of the time with Jacob and his friends, and watched as not only Jacob, but Embry and Quil as well, all started to mature from boys that were too immature to ever be considered seriously to young men.

La Push was a world of mystery, and in that summer, it was beautiful and promising in a way that I could not truly describe.

During the afternoons that were spent with my friends in Forks, I helped Angela start filling out early applications for colleges, helped Mike figure out ways to woo Jessica, spent time with Tyler and Eric at the basketball court at the park, spent time babysitting Samantha's little sisters, and even spent a some of the time with Lauren – awkward and stilted, not worth mentioning time, but still.

The afternoons that I spent with the Cullens were the most memorable of my summer days. During those times I got to watch Alice decimate her husband while playing chess, got to hear each of their stories – excepting Jasper's, who never revealed any details to me about his life before being a Cullen – got to listen to Emmett's crazy hunting excursions, and even got to watch them at a couple of their baseball games like the one I missed when I'd went down to Tacoma all those months before.

Edward spent almost every night at my house, many of them lying with me in bed, sometimes we'd kiss or just hold hands, other times he would answer questions or tell me stories, and far more often than not he would hum tunes until I fell asleep.

During both the spring and the summer, I was practically able to fool myself into believing that fantasy could become reality. In a world of supernatural, where love and family felt practically magical, it felt – for that brief while – like my true reality.

The thing was, someone forgot to remind me that at the end of the day, fantasy was just that.

* * *

 **AN:** So, this interlude marks the technical halfway mark in my story, though more than likely the second half will be somewhat longer than the first half. The first chapter in the second half of the book will be the last chapter that Edward and Bella are together and the last chapter that uses a heavy amount of text from the original books. After that, things start to becoming seriously au


	28. Chapter 26 - Party

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer and I do not own Twilight, New Moon or anything else relating to her. I also do not own any of the text stolen from the books.

 **AN:** So this is the final chapter that borrows heavily from the books it's based on. It's also the longest chapter I'm going to have. There's many reasons I decided to put this all in one chapter, but the major thing here is that for my story, this needed to be the closing chapter for Edward's and Bella's time together.

 **Chapter 26 – Party**

I was ninety-nine point nine percent sure I was dreaming.

The reasons I was so certain were that, first, I was standing in a bright shaft of sunlight – the kind of blindingly clear sun I was only familiar with from my visits to California and Arizona – and second, I was looking at my Grandma Marie. My grandmother had been dead for a solid six years now, so that was hard evidence toward the dream theory.

My grandma hadn't changed much; her face looked just the same as I remembered it. The skin was soft and withered, bent into a thousand tiny creases that clung gently to the bone underneath. Like a dried apricot, but with a puff of thick white hair standing out in a cloud around it.

Our mouths – hers a wizened pucker – spread into the same surprised half-smile at just the same time. Apparently, she hadn't been expecting to see me, either.

I was about to ask her a question; I had so many questions – What was she doing here in my dream? What had she been up to in the past six years? Was grandpa Beaufort, the man who had died only a few short weeks before I'd been born, okay and had they found each other after all this time, wherever they were? – but she opened her mouth when I did, so I stopped to let her go first. She paused, too, and then we both smiled at the little awkwardness.

"Bella?"

It wasn't grandma who called my name, so we both turned to see the addition to our small reunion, though I didn't have to look to know who it was. His was a voice I would know anywhere – know, and respond to, whether I was awake or asleep... or likely even dead. The voice I'd walk through fire for – or, less dramatically, willingly give up my own dreams for as long as I could spend my future with him.

Edward.

Even though I was always thrilled to see him – conscious or otherwise – and even though I was _almost_ positive that I was dreaming, I panicked as Edward walked toward us through the glaring sunlight.

I panicked because my grandma didn't know I was in love with a vampire – nobody knew that – so how was I supposed to explain the fact that the brilliant sunbeams were shattering off his skin into a thousand rainbow shards like he was made of crystal or diamond?

 _Well, grandma, you might have noticed my boyfriend glitters. It's just something he does in the sun. Don't worry about it..._

What was he _doing_? The whole reason he'd moved to Forks about a year prior, the rainiest place in the world, was so that he could be outside in the daytime without exposing his family's secret. Yet here he was, strolling gracefully toward me – with the most beautiful smile on his angel's face – as if I were the only one here.

In that second, I wished that I was not the one exception to his mysterious talent; I usually felt grateful for the fact that I was the only person whose thoughts he couldn't hear just as clearly as if they were spoken aloud. But now I wished he could hear me, too, so he could hear the warning I was screaming in my head.

I shot a panicked glance back at my grandma, and saw that it was too late. She was just turning to stare back at me, her eyes as alarmed as mine.

Edward – still smiling so beautifully that my heart felt like it was going to swell up and burst through my chest – put his arm around my shoulder and turned to face my grandmother.

Grandma's expression surprised me. Instead of looking horrified, she was staring at me sheepishly, as if waiting for a scolding. And she was standing in such a strange position – one arm held awkwardly away from her body, stretched out and then curled around the air. Like she had her arm around someone I couldn't see, someone invisible...

Only then, as I looked at the bigger picture, did I notice the huge gilt frame which enclosed my grandmother's form. Uncomprehending, I raised the hand that wasn't wrapped around Edward's waist and reached out to touch her. She mimicked the movement exactly, mirrored it. But where our fingers should have met, there was nothing but cold glass...

With a dizzying jolt, my dream abruptly became a nightmare.

There was no grandmother Marie.

That was _me._ Me in a mirror. Me – ancient, creased, and withered.

Edward stood beside me, casting no reflection, excruciatingly lovely, and forever seventeen.

He pressed his icy, perfect lips against my wasted cheek.

"Happy birthday," he whispered.

. . .

I woke with a start – my eyelids popping open wide – and gasped. Dull gray light, the familiar light of a normal overcast morning in Forks, took the place of the blinding sun in my dream.

 _Just a dream,_ I told myself. _It was only a dream –_ a horrifying nightmare actually, but that was besides the point _._ I took a deep breath, and then jumped again when my alarm went off. The little calendar in the corner of the clock's display informed me that today was September thirteenth.

Only a nightmare, but prophetic enough in one way, at least. Today was my birthday. I was officially eighteen years old.

I'd been dreading this day for months.

All through the perfect summer – the happiest summer I had ever had, the happiest summer _anyone anywhere_ had ever had, and the rainiest summer in the history of the Olympic Peninsula – this bleak date had lurked in ambush, waiting to spring.

And now that it had hit, it was even worse than I'd feared it would be. I could feel it – I was older. Every day I got older, but this was different, worse, quantifiable. I was eighteen.

And Edward never would be. In truth, a year or two – or even four or five – wouldn't be a big deal if I thought he and I would ever reach some sort of an agreement. The thing was, though I loved our summer together, each passing day had made it increasingly clearer he was _never_ going to turn me. There was never going to be a forever for us, and I honestly suspected our end was going to come far quicker than I was ready for.

When I went to brush my teeth, I was almost surprised that the face in the mirror hadn't changed. I stared at myself, looking for some sign of impending wrinkles in my ivory skin. The only creases were the ones on my forehead, though, and I knew that if I could manage to relax, they would disappear. I couldn't. My eyebrows stayed lodged in a worried line over my anxious brown eyes.

 _It was just a dream,_ I reminded myself again. Just a dream... but actually my worst nightmare.

I skipped breakfast, in a hurry to get out of the house as quickly as possible. I wasn't entirely able to avoid Charlie though, and so I had to spend a few minutes acting cheerful. I honestly tried to be excited about the gifts I'd asked him not to get me, but every time I had to smile, it felt like I might start crying.

I struggled to get a grip on myself as I drove to school. The vision of grandma – I would _not_ think of it as me – was hard to get out of my head. I couldn't feel anything but despair until I pulled into the familiar parking lot behind Forks High School and spotted Edward leaning motionless against his polished silver Volvo, like a marble tribute to some forgotten pagan god of beauty. The dream had not done him justice. And he was waiting there for _me,_ just the same as every other day.

Despair momentarily vanished; wonder took its place. Even after almost an entire year with him, I still couldn't believe that I deserved this degree of good fortune.

His sister Alice was standing by his side, waiting for me, too.

The sight of Alice waiting there – her tawny eyes brilliant with excitement, and a small silver-wrapped square in her hands – made me frown. I'd told Alice I didn't want anything, _anything_ , not gifts or even attention, for my birthday. Obviously, my wishes were being ignored – something their whole family was exceedingly good at, and something I was already entirely sick of. I was a living, breathing person, not some doll they could move around, dress, and play with at their whims. My opinions should actually matter to them.

I slammed the door of my 1953 Chevy truck – a shower of rust specks fluttered down to the wet blacktop – and walked slowly toward where they waited. Alice skipped forward to meet me, her pixie face glowing under her spiky black hair.

"Happy birthday, Bella!"

"Shh!" I hissed, glancing around the lot to make sure no one had heard her. Though why I was trying to keep it quiet was actually beyond me, the entirety of the school knew my birthday – yet another _amazing_ perk of being the chief's daughter.

She ignored me. "Do you want to open your present now or later?" she asked eagerly as we made our way to where Edward still waited.

"No presents," I protested in a mumble.

She finally seemed to process my mood. "Okay... later, then. Did you like the scrapbook and camera from Charlie?"

I sighed. Of course she would know what my birthday presents were. Alice would have "seen" what Charlie was planning as soon as he'd decided it himself.

"Yeah. They're great."

" _I_ think it's a nice idea. You're only a senior once. Might as well document the experience."

"How many times have _you_ been a senior?" I arched a sardonic eyebrow as I asked.

She grimaced slightly. "That's different."

We reached Edward then, and he held out his hand for mine. I took it eagerly, forgetting, for a moment, my glum mood. His skin was, as always, smooth, hard, and very cold. He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze. I looked into his liquid topaz eyes, and my heart gave a not-quite-so-gentle squeeze of its own. Hearing the stutter in my heartbeats, he smiled again.

He lifted his free hand and traced one cool fingertip around the outside of my lips as he spoke. "So, as discussed, I am not allowed to wish you a happy birthday, is that correct?"

"Yes. That is correct." I could never quite mimic the flow of his perfect, formal articulation. It was something that could only be picked up in an earlier century.

"Just checking." He ran his hand through his tousled bronze hair. "You _might_ have changed your mind. Most people seem to enjoy things like birthdays and gifts."

Alice laughed, and the sound was all silver, a wind chime. "Of course you'll enjoy it. Everyone is supposed to be nice to you today and give you your way, Bella. What's the worst that could happen?" She meant it as a rhetorical question.

"He knows what," I grumbled under my breath. It was actually about more than just my fear of Edward taking off. There was also the very real issue that in less than a year I'd have to be off at college and leaving my father to fend for himself. While part of me was excited to start my future and move out from under my father's thumb, there was this much larger part of me which feared leaving him. As I'd told Edward when we first met, there is a symbiotic relationship between parent and child, and it was especially there for me given how much we'd only had each other to rely on.

Alice was staring at Edward and apparently he'd answered her without either of them actually speaking, because suddenly she turned to me. "Isn't eighteen a little young to be worrying about your age?"

"It's older than Edward," I mumbled.

He sighed.

"Technically," she said, keeping her tone light. "Just by one little year, though."

"You're right, and if I thought for a second that these last months had swayed him in the slightest to an eventuality which doesn't end in me dead or having to give up being with him for my own sanity's sake it wouldn't matter, but currently it's just a reminder of how little time there really is for us." All because Edward was dead set against any future that changed me. Any future that made me like him – that made me immortal, too.

An impasse, he called it.

I couldn't really see Edward's point, to be honest. After all, he claimed to love me, and yet he was completely unwilling to keep me. It made me once again question if he really did care.

"What time will you be at the house?" Alice continued, changing the subject. From her expression, she was up to exactly the kind of thing I'd been _seriously_ hoping to avoid.

"I didn't know I had plans to be there."

"Oh, be fair, Bella!" she complained. "You aren't going to ruin all our fun like that, are you?"

"I thought my birthday was about what _I_ want." I should know better though, when was anything ever about what _I_ wanted when it came to Alice and her _fun_?

"I'll get her from Charlie's right after school," Edward told her, ignoring me altogether.

"I have to work," I protested.

"You don't, actually," Alice told me smugly. "I already spoke to Mrs. Newton about it. She's trading your shifts. She said to tell you 'Happy Birthday.'"

"I – I still can't come over," I stammered, scrambling for an excuse. "I, well, I haven't watched _Romeo and Juliet_ yet for English."

Alice snorted. "You have _Romeo and Juliet_ memorized."

"But Mr. Berty said we needed to see it performed to fully appreciate it – that's how Shakespeare intended it to be presented."

Edward rolled his eyes.

"You've already seen the movie," Alice accused.

"But not the nineteen-sixties version. Mr. Berty said it was the best." I actually had seen that version before, and the nineteen-thirties version... and the nineteen-nineties version with DiCaprio. But neither Edward nor Alice knew it, and I was desperate enough to get out of this that my lie actually sounded convincing for a change.

Finally, Alice lost the smug smile and glared at me. "This can be easy, or this can be hard, Bella, but one way or the other –"

Edward interrupted her threat. "Relax, Alice. If Bella wants to watch a movie, then she can. It's her birthday."

"So there," I added.

"I'll bring her over around seven," he continued. "That will give you more time to set up."

Alice's laughter chimed again. "Sounds good. See you tonight, Bella! It'll be fun, you'll see." She grinned – the wide smile exposed all her perfect, glistening teeth – then pecked me on the cheek and danced off toward her first class before I could respond.

"Edward, please –" I started to beg, but he pressed one cool finger to my lips.

"Let's discuss it later. You're going to be late for class."

I felt like pointing out he was going to be late too, but given that he could probably teach any class he was taking I wasn't sure there was much point in saying it. The start of my senior year had signified some definitive changes in our school time together, though Edward had _tried_ to charm his way into senior classes in order to take the same classes as me, this school had a strict no early graduation policy. To make matters even more stringent, the two electives I was taking were senior only electives so we shared absolutely no classes this year. As such the only time we had together were the few minutes in between each class which he insisted to walk with me too, even though our buildings were often on opposite ends of the school ground. Of course... when you were able to move so fast that all a normal person saw was a blur, you could get away with it.

As we walked to my first class of the day in building four, Calculus I with Mr. Varner. Other people walking or running to class barely paid us any mind, or at least they did until we were out of earshot for me. But even if I wasn't aware that I'd always be the source of gossip as the daughter of the chief, the reality was that the intermittent switches between random grins to gritting teeth from Edward told me people were still gossiping behind our back. At least I wasn't forced to hear it – most of the time.

The bell signaling class was starting rang on our walk to my class, but Edward didn't let go of my hand as we continued to my math class. Once we reached building four, he let go of my hand and quickly kissed my forehead.

"I'll see you at the end of class," he murmured before turning and leaving.

Sighing, I headed into class, taking my seat at the back and hoping Mr. Varner didn't notice my tardiness.

It had been just over three weeks since school had initially started and I could tell you exactly two things about calculus, x and dx, past that, I was completely lost. In spite of the fact that I was good at most subjects, math was not one of them. The only good thing about being in this math class, none of my closest friends were taking the class, opting for the far easier Statistics instead – even Eric with his 4.0 GPA was taking statistics.

After the end of the class and a quick walk with Edward to building one, I headed into Senior Lit with Mr. Berty. Unfortunately, my luck from the previous class didn't hold for this one, as Jessica, Angela, Mike, Eric and Ben were all in this class. A fact that was extremely obvious by the cupcake like thing on my desk as well as the numerous gift bags and wrapped presents.

I groaned.

Attention was never a good thing, as any other accident-prone klutz would agree. No one wanted a spotlight when they were likely to fall on their face.

And I'd very pointedly asked – well, ordered really – that no one give me any presents this year. Unfortunately, my worst fear had been realized as it looked like everyone had decided to overlook that.

I'd never had much money, and that had never really bothered me... except during my birthday. Charlie had raised me on the chief's salary and it was enough for the two of us. My mother's job situation until the last few years had always been questionable at best, and had never been something I'd relied on. Still, Charlie and I had enough money to get by, put food on the table, go out on occasion, and even do the occasional house reparation or upgrade – DIY projects only, of course.

And now that I was working, I had my own personal income coming from the three days a week I worked at Newton's sporting goods store.. Every penny I made went into my microscopic college fund, and though I knew Edward would be more than willing to pay for my college education, that would ultimately be just another reminder to me of how much we were from two extremely different worlds.

The thing was, though most of the kids here were not rich in the way Edward's family was, they still bought gifts for me that often times didn't feel like gifts for a friend they'd grown up with, but instead felt more like gifts for the daughter of the chief of police, and I hated that feeling.

I sat down in my desk and looked at the cupcake like item that had been placed as the centerpiece of my desk. It was the shape of a cupcake, but it had to be a foot and a half tall and easily ten-inches wide.

"What is this thing?" I asked, staring at it. Part of me was well aware that class had already technically started, but given that all my friends weren't even sitting down yet I was assuming Mr. Berty was okay with this little get together that was being forced upon me.

Jessica snickered. "Lauren's mom made it for you, or at least that was what Lauren claimed when she gave it to me. Mike already tried the frosting and hasn't keeled over yet so there's no arsenic in it. I think it's called a cupcake cake, or something like that."

I looked around my table for plates and a knife but didn't find any. "Please tell me you are helping me eat this thing."

"Naturally," Conner spoke up from farther away, his hand coming up with a stack of paper plates and a giant plastic knife.

"Thank god," I mumbled under my breath.

As Lee cut up and passed around slices of the giant cupcake, I started to open the different gifts under pressure from my numerous friends. As I opened them, I knew exactly who gave me what, even though the vast majority of the gifts did not have labels on them – in fact, the one from Jessica was the only one with a label, and I hadn't needed the label to know the little sequin laden hand purse was from her. The gifts ranged from lures – Charlie's favorite brand – from Mike, to yet another set of expensive pens I'd never use from Eric, to a red bandanna with a coin sewed into the side from Tyler, and several other things. The fact that Tyler had somehow gotten a gift to me with a not so subtle reminder of our first ever date when he wasn't even in this class didn't escape my notice.

The vintage shirt with a band label from Angela was the only gift in the lot though which held any real appeal on a personal level. Still, I stuffed them all into my backpack, grateful the lures were still in their plastic containers so I didn't accidentally poke myself on one of the hooks.

Finally, Mr. Berty called class to order about five minutes before the end of class, just in time to give us a week's worth of homework – all due to the next day.

Over the course of the next three classes; World Politics and Religions, Life Health – a particularly evil breed of torture which was one part health and one part gym – and Culinary Baking, I tried to come up with an excuse to get out of whatever hell Alice was planning for me. The final class before lunch being one of my two elective classes.

By lunch though, I still had no idea how to get out of it. Thankfully, neither Edward nor Alice brought my birthday up again, and I began to relax a little, halfway thinking that maybe they forgot, though I really should have known better.

We sat at our usual table for lunch, which is to say Edward and I sat with my friends with all of my friends carefully crowding one end – which was an especially difficult feat given that the table was round – while Edward and I sat at the opposite end of the table. All the while, the rest of the Cullens sat off by themselves in their little corner of the cafeteria. I'd volunteered in the past to sit with them but Edward had been adamantly against the idea, and while a small part of me had been relieved because I honestly didn't get along with Rosalie, I was still also peeved because of his reasoning about how he was already taking me away from so much of my normal human life. Frankly, I was quite certain him sitting with me at my friends table made everything far more strained than it would if I just sat with the Cullens to begin with.

After lunch my final three classes of the day were Chemistry, Intro to Business, and Spanish IV. In spite of it being my fourth year taking Spanish, I still could barely use the language in a practical setting.

The afternoon passed quickly.

School ended, and Edward walked me to my truck as he usually did. But this time, he held the passenger door open for me. One of the others must have been taking his car home, likely Rosalie, so that he could keep me from making a run for it.

I folded my arms and made no move to get out of the rain. "It's my birthday, don't I get to drive?"

"I'm pretending it's not your birthday, just as you wished."

"If it's not my birthday, then I don't have to go to your house tonight..." I could go to work at Newton's instead – I was extremely tempted to say, just so I could irk Edward.

"All right." He shut the passenger door and walked past me to open the driver's side. "Happy birthday."

"Shh," I shushed him halfheartedly. I climbed in the opened door, wishing he'd taken the other offer. Edward played with the radio while I drove, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Your radio has horrible reception."

I frowned. I didn't like it when he picked on my truck. My truck was great – it had personality.

"You want a nice stereo? Drive your own car." I was so nervous about Alice's plans, on top of my already gloomy mood, that the words came out sharper than I'd meant them. I was hardly ever bad-tempered with Edward, and my tone made him press his lips together to keep from smiling.

When I parked in front of Charlie's house, he reached over to take my face in his hands. He handled me very carefully, pressing just the tips of his fingers softly against my temples, my cheekbones, my jawline. Like I was especially breakable. Which was exactly the case – compared with him, at least.

"You should be in a good mood, today of all days," he whispered. His sweet breath fanned across my face.

"And if I don't want to be in a good mood?" I asked, my breathing uneven.

His golden eyes smoldered. "Too bad."

My head was already spinning by the time he leaned closer and pressed his icy lips against mine.

As he intended, no doubt, I forgot all about my worries, and concentrated on remembering how to inhale and exhale.

His mouth lingered on mine, cold and smooth and gentle, until I wrapped my arms around his neck and threw myself into the kiss with a little too much enthusiasm. I could feel his lips curve upward as he let go of my face and reached back to unlock my grip on him.

Edward had drawn many careful lines for our physical relationship, with the intent being to keep me alive. Though I respected the need for maintaining a safe distance between my skin and his razor-sharp, venom-coated teeth, part of me was sick of it. I honestly wanted and needed more than he was giving me.

"Be good, please," he breathed against my cheek. He pressed his lips gently to mine one more time and then pulled away, folding my arms across my stomach.

My pulse was thudding in my ears. I put one hand over my heart. It drummed hyperactively under my palm.

"Do you think my heart might someday stop trying to jump out of my chest whenever you touch me?" I wondered, mostly to myself.

"I really hope not," he said, a bit smug.

I rolled my eyes. "Let's go watch the Capulets and Montagues hack each other up, all right?"

"Your wish, my command."

Edward sprawled across the couch while I started the movie, fast-forwarding through the opening credits. When I perched on the edge of the sofa in front of him, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against his chest. It wasn't exactly as comfortable as a sofa cushion would be, what with his chest being hard and cold as an ice sculpture, but it was definitely preferable. He pulled the old afghan off the back of the couch and draped it over me so I wouldn't freeze beside his body.

"You know, I've never had much patience with Romeo," he commented as the movie started.

"What's wrong with Romeo?" I asked, a little offended. Romeo was one of my favorite fictional characters. Until I'd met Edward, I'd sort of had a thing for him.

"Well, first of all, he's in love with this Rosaline – don't you think it makes him seem a little fickle? And then, a few minutes after their wedding, he kills Juliet's cousin. That's not very brilliant. Mistake after mistake. Could he have destroyed his own happiness any more thoroughly?"

I sighed. "Do you want me to watch this alone?"

"No, I'll mostly be watching you, anyway." His fingers traced patterns across the skin of my arm, raising goose bumps. "Will you cry?"

"Probably," I admitted, "if I'm paying attention."

"I won't distract you, then." But I felt his lips on my hair, and it was very distracting.

The movie eventually captured my interest, thanks in large part to Edward whispering Romeo's lines in my ear – his irresistible, velvet voice made the actor's voice sound weak and coarse by comparison. And I did cry, to his amusement, when Juliet woke and found her new husband dead.

"I'll admit, I do sort of envy him here," Edward said, drying the tears with a lock of my hair.

"She's very pretty."

He made a disgusted sound. "I don't envy him the _girl –_ just the ease of the suicide," he clarified in a teasing tone. "You humans have it so easy! All you have to do is throw down one tiny vial of plant extracts..."

"What?" I gasped.

"It's something I had to think about once, and I knew from Carlisle's experience that it wouldn't be simple. I'm not even sure how many ways Carlisle tried to kill himself in the beginning... after he realized what he'd become..." His voice, which had grown serious, turned light again. "And he's clearly still in excellent health."

I twisted around so that I could read his face. "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "What do you mean, this something you had to think about once?"

"Last fall, when you were... nearly killed..." He paused to take a deep breath, struggling to return to his teasing tone. "Of course I was trying to focus on finding you alive, but part of my mind was making contingency plans. Like I said, it's not as easy for me as it is for a human."

For one second I was back in my grandmother's house, legally my house, and James – the sadistic bastard – was intent on torturing me for as long as possible before finally finishing me off. I could remember the fire in my wrist and the pain of the bullet piercing my shoulder. Then I forced myself to shake it off.

"Contingency plans?" I repeated, my voice ice cold. Either Edward wasn't paying attention to it, or he was flat out choosing to ignore it.

"Well, I wasn't going to live without you." He rolled his eyes as if that fact were childishly obvious even though he knew exactly how I felt about that idea. "But I wasn't sure how to _do_ it – I knew Emmett and Jasper would never help... so I was thinking maybe I would go to Italy and do something to provoke the Volturi. Though technically the wolves just fifteen miles away would probably be more than willing to fulfill my desire."

My anger flared to life. "What is a _Volturi_?" I demanded.

"The Volturi are a family," he explained, his eyes remote. "A very old, very powerful family of our kind. They are the closest thing our world has to a royal family, I suppose. Carlisle lived with them briefly in his early years, in Italy, before he settled in America – do you remember the story?"

"Of course I remember."

I would never forget the first time I'd gone to his home, the huge white mansion buried deep in the forest beside the river, or the room where Carlisle – Edward's father in so many real ways – kept a wall of paintings that illustrated his personal history. The most vivid and largest canvas there was from Carlisle's time in Italy. Of course I remembered the calm quartet of men, each with the exquisite face of a seraph, painted into the highest balcony overlooking the swirling mayhem of color. Though the painting was centuries old, Carlisle – the blond angel – remained unchanged. And I remembered the three others, Carlisle's early acquaintances. Edward had never used the name _Volturi_ for the beautiful trio, two black-haired, one snow white. He'd called them Aro, Caius, and Marcus, nighttime patrons of the arts...

"Anyway, you don't irritate the Volturi," Edward went on, interrupting my reverie. "Not unless you want to die – or whatever it is we do." His voice was so calm, it made him sound almost bored by the prospect.

"No," I snarled. "We've been over this, unless you have some intention to someday turn me than there is absolutely no reason for you to _ever_ consider dying over my death, because what we have has a very limited lifespan."

"What would you do, if the position was reversed?" he demanded.

I glared angrily at him. "Well, Edward, that's where we differ. If our positions were reversed, I'd have already turned you if that was what you wanted, because I'd actually want to be with you forever. I wouldn't be looking for justification to end my existence. If you're so miserable with your immortality, than don't use me as your excuse."

I got up from the couch suddenly. I'd never wished quite so badly for him to be human just so I could punch him without breaking my own hand in the process. "This conversation is over. I'm going upstairs to get changed so I'm ready for whatever special brand of torture Alice is planning to inflict tonight. Do _not_ follow me."

I stomped upstairs and went straight to my room looking through my clothes for something for a birthday party. After searching for several minutes, I finally gave up and changed into the shirt Angela had given me at school and a pair of faded jeans. While I was dressing I heard Charlie's car pull up outside.

I darted down the stairs just as Charlie came in from outside, a pizza box in his hands.

"Hey, kids." He grinned at me. "I thought you'd like a break from cooking and washing dishes for your birthday. Hungry?"

"Sure. Thanks, Dad."

Charlie didn't comment on Edward's apparent lack of appetite while he and I ate. He was used to Edward passing on dinner.

"Do you mind if I borrow Bella for the evening?" Edward asked when Charlie and I were done.

I looked at Charlie even though I wasn't very hopeful. I couldn't remember the last birthday I'd had where we'd done something more than a handful of gifts in the morning... no, I did remember, we'd gone to The Lodge for steak and potatoes three years ago. Honestly it had felt like we'd been celebrating his birthday and not mine.

"That's fine – the Mariners are playing the Sox tonight," Charlie explained, and my minuscule hope disappeared. "So I won't be any kind of company... Here." He scooped up the camera he'd gotten me, and threw it to me.

He ought to know better than that – I'd always been challenged by coordination. The camera glanced off the tip of my finger, and tumbled toward the floor. Edward snagged it before it could crash onto the linoleum.

"Nice save," Charlie noted. "If they're doing something fun at the Cullens' tonight, Bella, you should take some pictures. It'll be a good start for the scrapbook... or at least that was the plan behind Alice's idea I think." The last part was so mumbled I almost didn't catch it, but it finally passed through my mind enough to catch up with me.

"What did you just –"

"Good idea, Charlie," Edward said, cutting me off as he handed me the camera.

Narrowing my eyes, I turned the camera on Edward, and snapped the first picture. "Well, it works."

"That's good. Hey, say hi to Alice for me. She hasn't been over in a while." Charlie's mouth pulled down at one corner.

Not long enough, apparently. Since Alice had obviously been getting him involved in her hi-jinks. "It's been three days, Dad," I reminded him. Charlie was crazy about Alice. He'd become attached over the last months of my friendship to her. "I'll tell her."

"Okay. You kids have fun tonight." It was clearly a dismissal. Charlie was already edging toward the living room and the TV.

Edward smiled, triumphant, and took my hand to pull me from the kitchen.

When we got to the truck, he opened the passenger door for me again, and this time I didn't argue. I still had a hard time finding the obscure turnoff to his house in the dark.

Edward drove north through Forks, visibly chafing at the speed limit enforced by my prehistoric Chevy. The engine groaned even louder than usual as he pushed it over fifty.

"Take it easy," I warned him.

"You know what you would love? A nice little Audi coupe. Very quiet, lots of power..."

"There's nothing wrong with my truck. And speaking of expensive non-essentials, if you know what's good for you, you didn't spend any money on birthday presents."

"Not a dime," he said virtuously.

"Good."

"Can you do me a favor?"

"That depends on what it is."

He sighed, his lovely face serious. "Bella, the last real birthday any of us had was Emmett in 1935. Cut us a little slack, and don't be too difficult tonight. They're all very excited."

It always startled me a little when he brought up things like that. "Fine, I'll behave."

"Besides, you let the your friends give you presents," he grumbled.

"No, I let them give the chief presents. The lures from Mike will go in my dad's tackle box as well as the open faced reel from Samantha. The fancy pens from Eric, the expensive notebook from Conner, and the paper weight from Lee go in the first drawer on the left in the kitchen. Come Christmas they'll be gifts for our local dispatcher, Matilda, and the deputies, Steve and Mark. Even the bandanna from Tyler will end up being a handkerchief for Charlie after I alter it. The only things I'm keeping are the purse, because there's nobody to give that thing to, and this shirt, because it's the only thing that was really given with me in mind."

Edward turned his head to stare at me in surprise.

I sighed.

He drove for a couple minutes in complete silence before Edward decided to change the subject. "So, if you won't let me get you the Audi, isn't there anything that you'd like for your birthday?"

"Do you really want to go there again?"

A deep frown carved creases into his marble forehead.

It felt like we'd had this argument a lot, and not just today, but for months now. Edward wanted me to remain human, but I wanted more of a relationship with him that he was willing to offer me as long as I remained as such.

"Not tonight, Bella. Please."

"Well, maybe Alice will give me what I want."

Edward growled – a deep, menacing sound. "This isn't going to be your last birthday, Bella," he vowed.

"That's the funny thing though, isn't it? You don't know that, Edward. I'm human. I could die tomorrow."

I thought I heard his teeth clench together.

Well, if he didn't like hearing the truth than he shouldn't continue making stupid comments I felt the need to correct. If there'd ever been a human quite so aware of their own mortality it was me. I was too clumsy not to be.

We were pulling up to the house now. Bright light shone from every window on the first two floors. A long line of glowing Japanese lanterns hung from the porch eaves, reflecting a soft radiance on the huge cedars that surrounded the house. Big bowls of flowers – pink roses – lined the wide stairs up to the front doors.

I moaned.

Edward took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "This is a party," he reminded me. "Try to be a good sport."

"Sure, sure," I muttered, parroting one of Jacob's favorite lines.

He came around to get my door, and offered me his hand.

"I have a question."

He waited warily.

"If I develop this film," I said, toying with the camera in my hands, "will you show up in the picture?"

Edward started laughing. He helped me out of my truck, pulled me up the stairs, and was still laughing as he opened the door for me.

They were all waiting in the huge white living room; when I walked through the door, they greeted me with a loud chorus of "Happy birthday, Bella!" while I blushed and looked down. Alice, I assumed, had covered every flat surface with pink candles and dozens of crystal bowls filled with hundreds of roses. There was a table with a white cloth draped over it next to Edward's grand piano, holding a pink birthday cake, more roses, a stack of glass plates, and a small pile of silver-wrapped presents.

It was a hundred times worse than I'd imagined.

Edward, sensing my distress, wrapped an encouraging arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head.

Edward's parents, Carlisle and Esme – impossibly youthful and lovely as ever – were the closest to the door. Esme hugged me carefully, her soft, caramel-colored hair brushing against my cheek as she kissed my forehead, and then Carlisle put his arm around my shoulders.

"Sorry about this, Bella," he stage-whispered. "We couldn't rein Alice in."

Rosalie and Emmett stood behind them. Rosalie didn't smile, but at least she didn't glare. Emmett's face was stretched into a huge grin. They were as much the picture of a perfect power couple as they'd always been – and they still looked far too old for the sophomores they tried to pull off as being.

"You haven't changed at all," Emmett said with mock disappointment. "I expected a perceptible difference, but here you are, red-faced just like always."

I almost snorted, he'd seen me at school today so he already knew I looked just the same. "Thanks a lot, Emmett," I said instead, my voice derisive.

He laughed, "I have to step out for a second –" he paused to wink conspicuously at Alice "– Don't do anything funny while I'm gone."

"I'll try."

Alice let go of Jasper's hand and skipped forward, all her teeth sparkling in the bright light. Jasper smiled, too, but kept his distance. He leaned, long and blond, against the post at the foot of the stairs. During the days we'd had to spend cooped up together in Los Angeles, I'd thought he'd gotten over his aversion to me. But he'd gone back to exactly how he'd acted before – avoiding me as much as possible – the moment he was free from that temporary obligation to protect me. I knew it wasn't personal, just a precaution, and I tried not to be overly sensitive about it. Jasper had more trouble sticking to the Cullens' diet than the rest of them; the scent of human blood was much harder for him to

resist than the others – he hadn't been trying as long. Still, there was a part of me that sincerely missed the closeness that we had shared.

"Time to open presents," Alice declared. She put her cool hand under my elbow and towed me to the table with the cake and the shiny packages.

I put on my best martyr face. "Alice, I know I told you I didn't want anything –"

"But I didn't listen," she interrupted, smug. "Open it." She took the camera from my hands and replaced it with a big, square silver box.

The box was so light that it felt empty. The tag on top said that it was from Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper. Self consciously, I tore the paper off and then stared at the box it concealed.

It was something electrical, with lots of numbers in the name. I opened the box, hoping for further illumination. But the box _was_ empty.

"Um... thanks."

Rosalie actually cracked a smile. Jasper laughed. "It's a stereo for your truck," he explained. "Emmett's installing it right now so that you can't return it."

Alice was always one step ahead of me – it was seriously annoying.

"Thanks, Jasper, Rosalie," I told them, grinning suddenly as I remembered Edward's complaints about my radio this afternoon – all a setup, apparently. "Thanks, Emmett!" I called more loudly.

I heard his booming laugh from my truck, and I couldn't help laughing, too.

"Open mine and Edward's next," Alice said, so excited her voice was a high-pitched trill. She held a small, flat square in her hand.

I looked toward Edward suspiciously just Emmett came back in from outside.

"I didn't spend a dime," Edward assured me without me saying anything. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, leaving my skin tingling from his touch.

I inhaled deeply and turned back to Alice. "Give it to me," I sighed.

Emmett chuckled with delight.

I took the little package, rolling my eyes at Edward while I stuck my finger under the edge of the paper and jerked it under the tape.

"Shoot," I muttered when the paper sliced my finger; I pulled it out to examine the damage. A single drop of blood oozed from the tiny cut.

It all happened very quickly then.

"No!" Edward roared.

He threw himself at me, flinging me back across the table. It fell, as I did, scattering the cake and the presents, the flowers and the plates. I landed in the mess of shattered crystal.

Jasper slammed into Edward, and the sound was like the crash of boulders in a rock slide.

There was another noise, a grisly snarling that seemed to be coming from deep in Jasper's chest.

Jasper tried to shove past Edward, snapping his teeth just inches from Edward's face.

Emmett grabbed Jasper from behind in the next second, locking him into his massive steel grip, but Jasper struggled on, his wild, empty eyes focused only on me.

Beyond the shock, there was also pain. I'd tumbled down to the floor by the piano, with my hands thrown down instinctively to take the brunt of my fall – directly into the jagged shards of glass. Only now did I feel the searing, stinging pain running through my palms and my fingers. Dazed and disoriented, I looked up from the bright red blood staining and soaking in the carpet – directly into the fevered eyes of the six suddenly ravenous vampires.

Carlisle was the only one who stayed calm. Centuries of experience in the emergency room were evident in his quiet, authoritative voice.

"Emmett, Rose, get Jasper outside."

Unsmiling for once, Emmett nodded. "Come on, Jasper."

Jasper struggled against Emmett's unbreakable grasp, twisting around, reaching toward his brother with his bared teeth, his eyes still past reason.

Edward's face was whiter than bone as he wheeled to crouch over me, taking a clearly defensive position. A low warning growl slid from between his clenched teeth. I could tell that he wasn't breathing.

Rosalie, her divine face strangely smug, stepped in front of Jasper – keeping a careful distance from his teeth – and helped Emmett wrestle him through the glass door that Esme held open, one hand pressed over her mouth and nose.

Esme's heart-shaped face was ashamed. "I'm so sorry, Bella," she cried as she followed the others into the yard.

"Let me by, Edward," Carlisle murmured.

A second passed, and then Edward nodded slowly and relaxed his stance.

Carlisle knelt beside me, taking one of my hands so he could examine it. I knew the cuts weren't deep even before I saw it with my own eyes because of the unique stinging pain that only occurred from lighter cuts like those on my hands. The problem was fingers were extremities and anytime an extremity was cut, it would bleed like a stuck pig. I knew that because I'd had far more than my share of cuts before.

"They won't need stitches, but all the glass is going to have to be carefully removed and your hands covered in an antibiotic before being wrapped," Carlisle murmured. "Do you want me to drive you to the hospital, or would you like me to take care of it here?"

"Here, please," I whispered. If he took me to the hospital, there would be no way to keep this off my medical record. I was quite sure I didn't need yet _another_ injury on my records due to extreme idiocy.

"I'll get your bag," Alice said.

"Let's take her to the kitchen table," Carlisle said to Edward.

Edward lifted me effortlessly.

"How are you doing, Bella?" Carlisle asked.

"I'm fine." My voice was reasonably steady, which pleased me.

Edward's face was like stone.

Alice was there. Carlisle's black bag was already on the table, a small but brilliant desk light plugged into the wall. Edward sat me gently into a chair, and Carlisle pulled up another. He went to work at once.

Edward stood over me, still protective, still not breathing.

"Just go, Edward," I sighed.

"I can handle it," he insisted. But his jaw was rigid; his eyes burned with the intensity of the thirst he fought, so much worse for him than it was for the others.

"You don't need to be a hero," I said. "Carlisle can fix me up without your help. Get some fresh air."

I winced as Carlisle dug a particularly embedded piece of glass out of the meatier flesh beneath the thumb.

"I'll stay," he said.

"Why are you so masochistic?" I mumbled.

Carlisle decided to intercede. "Edward, you may as well go find Jasper before he gets too far. I'm sure he's upset with himself, and I doubt he'll listen to anyone but you right now."

"Yes," I eagerly agreed. "Go find Jasper."

"You might as well do something useful," Alice added.

Edward's eyes narrowed as we ganged up on him, but, finally, he nodded once and sprinted smoothly through the kitchen's back door. I was sure he hadn't taken a breath since I'd sliced my finger.

"I could inject a pain killer near the area, but honestly it's not necessary unless you're in a lot of pain, Bella?"

"I'm fine," I sighed. It was true, the stinging was bad, but hardly the worst pain I'd ever felt.

He continued pulling the pieces of glass out of my hands, being both more meticulous and faster than would be possible were he human.

If she hadn't been in my line of sight, I wouldn't have noticed Alice give up and steal out of the room. With a tiny, apologetic smile on her lips, she disappeared through the kitchen doorway.

"Well, that's everyone," I sighed. "I can clear a room, at least."

"It's not your fault," Carlisle comforted me with a chuckle. "It could happen to anyone."

" _Could_ ," I repeated. "But it usually just happens to me."

He laughed again.

His relaxed calm was only more amazing set in direct contrast with everyone else's reaction. I couldn't find any trace of anxiety in his face. He worked with quick, sure movements. The only sound besides our quiet breathing was the soft _plink, plink_ as the tiny fragments of glass dropped one by one to the table.

"How can you do this?" I demanded. "Even Alice and Esme..." I trailed off, shaking my head in wonder. Though the rest of them had given up the traditional diet of vampires just as absolutely as Carlisle had, he was the only one who could bear the smell of my blood without suffering from the intense temptation. Clearly, this was much more difficult than he made it seem.

"Years and years of practice," he told me. "I barely notice the scent anymore."

"Do you think it would be harder if you took a vacation from the hospital for a long time? And weren't around any blood?"

"Maybe." He shrugged his shoulders, but his hands remained steady. "I've never felt the need for an extended holiday." He flashed a brilliant smile in my direction. "I enjoy my work too much."

 _Plink, plink, plink_. I was surprised at how much glass there seemed to be in my hands. I was tempted to glance at the growing pile, just to check the size, but I knew that idea would not be helpful if I wanted to keep from throwing up. The scent of my blood was already making me nauseous.

"What is it that you enjoy?" I wondered. It didn't make sense to me – the years of struggle and self-denial he must have spent to get to the point where he could endure this so easily. Besides, I wanted to keep him talking; the conversation kept my mind off the queasy feeling in my stomach.

His dark eyes were calm and thoughtful as he answered. "Hmm. What I enjoy the very most is when my... enhanced abilities let me save someone who would otherwise have been lost. It's pleasant knowing that, thanks to what I can do, some people's lives are better because I exist. Even the sense of smell is a useful diagnostic tool at times." One side of his mouth pulled up in half a smile.

I mulled that over while he poked around, making sure all the glass splinters were gone. Then he rummaged in his bag for some gauze, rubbing alcohol, and ointment.

"You try very hard to make up for something that was never your fault," I suggested while he very gently rubbed first the rubbing alcohol over the wounds to clean it and then finally rubbing the ointment into the wounds. Even though his skin was almost numbingly cold and he was being extremely gentle, the stinging was still ten times worse than the glass had been. "What I mean is, it's not like you asked for this. You didn't choose this kind of life, and yet you have to work so _hard_ to be good."

"I don't know that I'm making up for anything," he disagreed lightly. "Like everything in life, I just had to decide what to do with what I was given."

"That makes it sound too easy."

He gently wrapped my hands with a cloth wrap. "I'm going to give you this antibiotic lotion. You should spread it over your hands for the next three days, by then they should be healed enough to avoid infection." He continued wrapping before finally finishing just as he said, "Done."

"In the beginning, though, why did you even think to try a different way than the obvious one?"

His lips turned up in a private smile. "Hasn't Edward told you this story?"

"Yes. But I'm trying to understand what you were thinking..."

His face was suddenly serious again, and I wondered if his thoughts had gone to the same place that mine had. Wondering what I would be thinking _if_ it was ever me.

"You know my father was a clergyman," he mused as he cleaned the table carefully, rubbing everything down with wet gauze, and then doing it again.

"He had a rather harsh view of the world, which I was already beginning to question before the time that I changed." Carlisle put all the dirty gauze and the glass slivers into an empty crystal bowl. I didn't understand what he was doing, even when he lit the match. Then he threw it onto the alcohol soaked fibers, and the sudden blaze made me jump.

"Sorry," he apologized. "That ought to do it... So I didn't agree with my father's particular brand of faith. But never, in the nearly four hundred years now since I was born, have I ever seen anything to make me doubt whether God exists in some form or another. Not even the reflection in the mirror."

I pretended to examine the dressing on my hands to hide my surprise at the direction our conversation had taken. Religion was the last thing I expected, all things considered. My own life was fairly devoid of belief. Charlie considered himself a Lutheran, because that's what his parents had been, but Sundays he worshiped by the river with a fishing pole in his hand. Except for funerals I was relatively sure the last time we'd been to church was for Easter when I'd been... three, back before grandma Helen had passed away.

"I'm sure all this sounds a little bizarre, coming from a vampire." He grinned, knowing how their casual use of that word never failed to shock me. "But I'm hoping that there is still a point to this life, even for us. It's a long shot, I'll admit," he continued in an offhand voice. "By all accounts, we're damned regardless. But I hope, maybe foolishly, that we'll get some measure of credit for trying."

"I don't think that's foolish," I mumbled. I couldn't imagine anyone, deity included, who wouldn't be impressed by Carlisle. Besides, the only kind of heaven _I_ could appreciate would have to include Edward. "And I don't think anyone else would, either."

"Actually, you're the very first one to agree with me."

"The rest of them don't feel the same?" I asked, surprised, thinking of only one person in particular.

Carlisle guessed the direction of my thoughts again. "Edward's with me up to a point. God and heaven exist... and so does hell. But he doesn't believe there is an afterlife for our kind." Carlisle's voice was very soft; he stared out the big window over the sink, into the darkness. "You see, he thinks we've lost our souls."

I immediately thought of Edward's words this afternoon: _unless you want to die – or whatever it is that we do._ The light bulb flicked on over my head.

"That's the real problem, isn't it?" I guessed. "That's why he's being so difficult about me."

Carlisle spoke slowly. "I look at my... _son_. His strength, his goodness, the brightness that shines out of him – and it only fuels that hope, that faith, more than ever. How could there not be more for one such as Edward?"

I nodded in fervent agreement.

"But if I believed as he does..." He looked down at me with unfathomable eyes. "If you believed as he did. Could you take away _his_ soul?"

His question, worded that way, made me pause, but only for a brief second. "Yeah, I could," I finally said. It probably sounded almost cold, but I knew myself well enough to admit that I'd be selfish enough to willingly keep him forever – at least if it was what he wanted and our positions were actually reversed.

"That surprises me, though it shouldn't. You always seem to do what is least expected. But you can understand Edward's issue with it?"

I nodded once before stubbornly shaking my head.

Carlisle sighed.

"It's my choice," I insisted.

"It's his, too." He held up his hand when he could see that I was about to argue. "Whether he is responsible for doing that to you."

"He's not the only one able to do it." I eyed Carlisle speculatively.

He laughed, abruptly lightening the mood. "Oh, no! You're going to have to work this out with _him_." But then he sighed. "That's the one part I can never be sure of. I _think_ , in most other ways, that I've done the best I could with what I had to work with. But was it right to doom the others to this life? I can't decide."

I didn't answer. I imagined what my life would be like if Carlisle had resisted the temptation to change his lonely existence... and shuddered.

"It was Edward's mother who made up my mind." Carlisle's voice was almost a whisper. He stared unseeingly out the black windows.

"His mother?" Whenever I'd asked Edward about his parents, he would merely say that they had died long ago, and his memories were vague. I realized Carlisle's memory of them, despite the brevity of their contact, would be perfectly clear.

"Yes. Her name was Elizabeth. Elizabeth Masen. His father, Edward Senior, never regained consciousness in the hospital. He died in the first wave of the influenza. But Elizabeth was alert until almost the very end. Edward looks a great deal like her – she had that same strange bronze shade to her hair, and her eyes were exactly the same color green."

"His eyes were green?" I murmured, trying to picture it.

"Yes..." Carlisle's ocher eyes were a hundred years away now. "Elizabeth worried obsessively over her son. She hurt her own chances of survival trying to nurse him from her sickbed. I expected that he would go first, he was so much worse off than she was. When the end came for her, it was very quick. It was just after sunset, and I'd arrived to relieve the doctors who'd been working all day. That was a hard time to pretend – there was so much work to be done, and I had no need of rest. How I hated to go back to my house, to hide in the dark and pretend to sleep while so many were dying.

"I went to check on Elizabeth and her son first. I'd grown attached – always a dangerous thing to do considering the fragile nature of humans. I could see at once that she'd taken a bad turn. The fever was raging out of control, and her body was too weak to fight anymore.

"She didn't look weak, though, when she glared up at me from her cot.

"'Save him!' she commanded me in the hoarse voice that was all her throat could manage.

"'I'll do everything in my power,' I promised her, taking her hand. The fever was so high, she probably couldn't even tell how unnaturally cold mine felt. Everything felt cold to her skin.

"'You must,' she insisted, clutching at my hand with enough strength that I wondered if she wouldn't pull through the crisis after all. Her eyes were hard, like stones, like emeralds. 'You must do everything in _your_ power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward.'

"It frightened me. She looked at me with those piercing eyes, and, for one instant, I felt certain that she knew my secret. Then the fever overwhelmed her, and she never regained consciousness. She died within an hour of making her demand.

"I'd spent decades considering the idea of creating a companion for myself. Just one other creature who could really know me, rather than what I pretended to be. But I could never justify it to myself – doing what had been done to me.

"There Edward lay, dying. It was clear that he had only hours left. Beside him, his mother, her face somehow not yet peaceful, not even in death."

Carlisle saw it all again, his memory unblurred by the intervening century. I could see it clearly, too, as he spoke – the despair of the hospital, the overwhelming atmosphere of death. Edward burning with fever, his life slipping away with each tick of the clock... I shuddered again, and forced the picture from my mind.

"Elizabeth's words echoed in my head. How could she guess what I could do? Could anyone really want that for her son?

"I looked at Edward. Sick as he was, he was still beautiful. There was something pure and good about his face. The kind of face I would have wanted my son to have.

"After all those years of indecision, I simply acted on a whim. I wheeled his mother to the morgue first, and then I came back for him. No one noticed that he was still breathing. There weren't enough hands, enough eyes, to keep track of half of what the patients needed. The morgue was empty – of the living, at least. I stole him out the back door, and carried him across the rooftops back to my home.

"I wasn't sure what had to be done. I settled for recreating the wounds I'd received myself, so many centuries earlier in London. I felt bad about that later. It was more painful and lingering than necessary.

"I wasn't sorry, though. I've never been sorry that I saved Edward." He shook his head, coming back to the present. He smiled at me. "I suppose I should take you home now."

"I'll do that," Edward said. He came through the shadowy dining room, walking slowly for him. His face was smooth, unreadable, but there was something wrong with his eyes – something he was trying very hard to hide. I felt a spasm of unease in my stomach.

"Carlisle can take me," I said. I looked down at my shirt, which while not saturated, did have several splotches of blood on it from where I must have accidentally brushed one of my hands against it before Carlisle was done, though I didn't specifically remember doing it.

"I'm fine." Edward's voice was unemotional. "You'll need to change anyway. You'd give Charlie a heart attack the way you look. I'll have Alice get you something." He strode out the kitchen door again.

I looked at Carlisle anxiously. "He's very upset."

"Yes," Carlisle agreed. "Tonight is exactly the kind of thing that he fears the most. You being put in danger, because of what we are."

"It's not his fault."

"It's not yours, either."

I looked away from his wise, beautiful eyes. I couldn't agree with that – I was the accident prone klutz, after all.

Carlisle offered me his hand and helped me up from the table. I followed him out into the main room. Esme had come back; she was cleaning the carpet where I had fallen – with straight bleach from the smell of it.

"Esme, let me do that." I could feel that my face was bright red again.

"I'm already done." She smiled up at me. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," I assured her.

Alice and Edward came in the back doors. Alice hurried to my side, but Edward hung back, his face indecipherable.

"Come on," Alice said. "I'll get you something less macabre to wear."

She found me a shirt of Esme's that was close to the same color mine had been. Charlie wouldn't notice, I was sure. The bandages on my hands didn't look nearly as serious now that I was no longer spattered in gore. Charlie was never surprised to see me bandaged.

"Alice," I whispered as she headed back to the door.

"Yes?" She kept her voice low, too, and looked at me curiously, her head cocked to the side.

"How bad is it?" I couldn't be sure if my whispering was a wasted effort. Even though we were upstairs, with the door closed, perhaps he could still hear me.

Her face tensed. "I'm not sure yet."

And yet, I'd spent enough to Alice to know a lie when I heard it from her lips. It told me that she did know, and it was bad – bad enough that she had decided to hide it.

"How's Jasper?"

She sighed. "He's very unhappy with himself. It's all so much more of a challenge for him, and he hates feeling weak."

"It's not his fault. You'll tell him that I'm not mad at him, not at all, won't you?"

"Of course."

Edward was waiting for me by the front door. As I got to the bottom of the staircase, he held it open without a word.

"Take your things!" Alice cried as I walked warily toward Edward. She scooped up the two packages, one half-opened, and my camera from under the piano, and gently placed them in my hands.

"You can thank me later, when you've opened them."

Esme and Carlisle both said a quiet goodnight. I could see them stealing quick glances at their impassive son, much like I was.

It was a relief to be outside; I hurried past the lanterns and the roses, now unwelcome reminders. Edward kept pace with me silently. He opened the passenger side for me, and I climbed in without complaint.

On the dashboard was a big red ribbon, stuck to the new stereo. I pulled it off, throwing it to the floor. As Edward slid into the other side, I kicked the ribbon under my seat.

He didn't look at me or the stereo. Neither of us switched it on, and the silence was somehow intensified by the sudden thunder of the engine. He drove too fast down the dark, serpentine lane. The silence was making me insane.

"Say something," I finally begged as he turned onto the freeway.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked in a detached voice.

I cringed at his remoteness. "Tell me you forgive me."

That brought a flicker of life to his face – a flicker of anger. "Forgive _you_? For what?"

"If I'd been more careful, nothing would have happened."

"Bella, you gave yourself a paper cut – that hardly deserves the death penalty."

"It's still my fault."

My words opened up the floodgate.

"Your fault? If you'd cut yourself at Mike Newton's house, with Jessica there and Angela and your other normal friends, the worst that could possibly have happened would be what? Maybe they couldn't find you a bandage? If you'd tripped and knocked over a pile of glass plates on your own – without someone throwing you into them – even then, what's the worst? You'd get blood on the seats when they drove you to the emergency room? Mike Newton could have stayed by your side while they checked you out – and he wouldn't be fighting the urge to kill you the whole time he was there. Don't try to take any of this on yourself, Bella. It will only make me more disgusted with myself."

"How the hell did Mike Newton end up in this conversation?" I demanded.

"Mike Newton ended up in this conversation because Mike Newton would be a hell of a lot healthier for you to be with," he growled.

"Mike Newton is like a brother to me, I'd never be with him," I protested. "Besides, I'd rather die than be with anyone but you."

"Don't be melodramatic, please."

"Well then, don't you be ridiculous."

He didn't answer. He glared through the windshield, his expression black.

I racked my brain for some way to salvage the evening. When we pulled up in front of my house, I still hadn't come up with anything.

He killed the engine, but his hands stayed clenched around the steering wheel.

"Will you stay tonight?" I asked.

"I should go home."

The last thing I wanted was for him to go wallow in remorse.

"Please," I pressed.

"I really shouldn't."

"For my birthday," I finally tried.

"You can't have it both ways – either you want people to ignore your birthday or you don't. One or the other." His voice was stern, but not as serious as before. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Okay. I've decided that I don't want you to ignore my birthday. I'll see you upstairs."

I hopped out, reaching back in for my packages. He frowned.

"You don't have to take those."

"I want them," I responded automatically, and then wondered if he was using reverse psychology.

"No, you don't. Carlisle and Esme spent money on you."

"I'll live." I tucked the presents awkwardly under my arm and slammed the door behind me.

He was out of the truck and by my side in less than a second.

"Let me carry them, at least," he said as he took them away. "I'll be in your room."

I smiled. "Thanks."

"Happy birthday," he sighed, and leaned down to touch his lips to mine.

I reached up on my toes to make the kiss last longer when he pulled away. He smiled my favorite crooked smile, and then he disappeared into the darkness.

The game was still on; as soon as I walked through the front door I could hear the announcer rambling over the babble of the crowd.

"Bell?" Charlie called.

"Hey, Dad," I said as I came around the corner.

"How was it?" Charlie lounged across the sofa with his bare feet propped up on the arm. What was left of his curly brown hair was crushed flat on one side.

"Alice went overboard. Flowers, cake, candles, presents – the whole bit."

"What did they get you?"

"A stereo for my truck." And various unknowns.

"Wow."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Well, I'm calling it a night."

"I'll see you in the morning."

I waved. "See ya."

"What happened to your hand?"

I flushed and cursed silently. "A glass broke. It's nothing."

"Bella," he sighed, shaking his head.

"Goodnight, Dad."

I hurried up to the bathroom, where I kept my pajamas for just such nights as these. I shrugged into the matching tank top and cotton pants that I'd gotten to be comfortable with Edward in bed, even though I had more lingerie than I'd ever need, I'd discovered awhile ago that satin and his cold skin made for the world's worst case of goosebumps. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and then skipped to my room.

He was sitting in the center of my bed, toying idly with one of the silver boxes.

"Hi," he said. His voice was sad. He was wallowing.

I went to the bed, pushed the presents out of his hands, and climbed into his lap.

"Hi." I snuggled into his stone chest. "Can I open my presents now?"

"Where did the enthusiasm come from?" he wondered.

"You made me curious."

I picked up the long flat rectangle that must have been from Carlisle and Esme.

"Allow me," he suggested. He took the gift from my hand and tore the silver paper off with one fluid movement. He handed the rectangular white box back to me.

"Are you sure I can handle lifting the lid?" I muttered, but he ignored me.

Inside the box was a long thick piece of paper with an overwhelming amount of fine print. It took me a minute to get the gist of the information.

"We're going to Denver?" And I was excited, in spite of myself. It was a voucher for plane tickets, for both me and Edward. Then my brow furrowed. "Why are we going to Denver?"

Edward chuckled quietly as he reached forward and pulled away the flight voucher. Beneath it was a pamphlet. "I told Esme and Carlisle about your desire to someday become a cop. Esme did some research and discovered that the Denver police academy does a retreat in Aspen every winter for people who are considering going into police work. They thought you might enjoy it."

"Seriously?" I asked, working hard to keep from shouting in joy at the idea.

"That's the idea."

"I can't believe it. This will be amazing. I can't wait. But what if it's sunny? You'll have to stay inside during any activities if it is."

"I think I can handle it," he said, and then frowned. "If I'd had any idea that you could respond to a gift this appropriately, I would have made you open it in front of Carlisle and Esme. I thought you'd complain."

"Well, of course it's too much. But I get to take you with me!"

He chuckled. "Now I wish I'd spent money on your present. I didn't realize that you were capable of being reasonable."

I set the tickets aside and reached for his present, my curiosity rekindled. He took it from me and unwrapped it like the first one.

He handed back a clear CD jewel case, with a blank silver CD inside.

"What is it?" I asked, perplexed.

He didn't say anything; he took the CD and reached around me to put it in the CD player on the bedside table. He hit play, and we waited in silence. Then the music began.

I listened, speechless and wide-eyed. I knew he was waiting for my reaction, but I couldn't talk. Tears welled up, and I reached up to wipe them away before they could spill over.

"Do your hands hurt?" he asked anxiously.

"No, it's not my hands. It's beautiful, Edward. You couldn't have given me anything I would love more. I can't believe it." I shut up, so I could listen.

It was his music, his compositions. The first piece on the CD was my lullaby.

"I didn't think you would let me get a piano so I could play for you here," he explained.

"You're right."

"How do your hands feel?"

"Just fine." Actually, they were stinging badly under the wraps, but I could handle it.

"I'll get you some Tylenol."

"I don't need anything," I protested, but he slid me off his lap and headed for the door.

"Charlie," I hissed. Charlie wasn't exactly aware that Edward frequently stayed over. In fact, he would have a stroke if that fact were brought to his attention. But I didn't feel too guilty for deceiving him. It wasn't as if we were up to anything he wouldn't want me to be up to. Edward and his rules...

"He won't catch me," Edward promised as he disappeared silently out the door... and returned, catching the door before it had swung back to touch the frame. He had the glass from the bathroom and the bottle of pills in one hand.

I took the pills he handed me without arguing – I knew I would lose the argument.

My lullaby continued, soft and lovely, in the background.

"It's late," Edward noted. He scooped me up off the bed with one arm, and pulled the cover back with the other. He put me down with my head on my pillow and tucked the quilt around me. He lay down next to me – on top of the blanket so I wouldn't get chilled – and put his arm over me.

I leaned my head against his shoulder and sighed happily.

"Thanks again," I whispered.

"You're welcome."

It was quiet for a long moment as I listened to my lullaby drift to a close. Another song began. I recognized Esme's favorite.

"What are you thinking about?" I wondered in a whisper.

He hesitated for a second before he told me. "I was thinking about right and wrong, actually."

I felt a chill tingle along my spine.

"Remember how I decided that I wanted you to _not_ ignore my birthday?" I asked quickly, hoping it wasn't too clear that I was trying to distract him.

"Yes," he agreed, wary.

"Well, I was thinking, since it's still my birthday, that I'd like you to kiss me again."

"You're greedy tonight."

"Yes, I am – but please, don't do anything you don't want to do," I added, piqued.

He laughed, and then sighed. "Heaven forbid that I should do anything I don't want to do," he said in a strangely desperate tone as he put his hand under my chin and pulled my face up to his.

The kiss began much the same as usual – Edward was as careful as ever, and my heart began to overreact like it always did. And then something seemed to change. Suddenly his lips became much more urgent, his free hand twisted into my hair and held my face securely to his. And, though my hands reached up and gripped his hair, too, and though I was clearly beginning to cross his cautious lines, for once he didn't stop me. His body was cold through the thin quilt, but I crushed myself against him eagerly.

When he stopped it was abrupt; he pushed me away with gentle, firm hands.

I collapsed back onto my pillow, gasping, my head spinning. He hadn't been that enthusiastic in my bed since before James, and yet something about it felt off.

"Sorry," he said, and he was breathless, too. "That was out of line."

" _I_ don't mind," I panted.

He frowned at me in the darkness. "Try to sleep, Bella."

"No, I want you to kiss me again."

"You're overestimating my self-control."

"Which is tempting you more, my blood or my body?" I challenged.

"It's a tie." He grinned briefly in spite of himself, and then was serious again. "Now, why don't you stop pushing your luck and go to sleep?"

"Fine," I agreed, snuggling closer to him. I really did feel exhausted. It had been a long day in so many ways, yet I felt no sense of relief at its end. Almost as if something worse was coming tomorrow.

. . .

My eyes opened in the shadowy forest surrounding La Push. Everything was foggy and I wasn't at all sure how I'd ended up in the forest. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep in Edward arms. I slowly got up, some part of me noting my hands were perfectly fine and there was something wrong about that, but couldn't quite figure out what.

As I got up, my eyes caught a shadow in the distance. "Hello, is anyone out there?"

The shadow didn't reply though. I looked around the forest trying to find something or someone to hold on to, but though I was sure there was something in front of my eyes a couple of times, I couldn't tell what precisely was in front of my eyes. Instead, I kept on looking back towards the shadow. Finally I started walking towards it, determined to find out who it was.

Behind me I heard a voice shout, "Bella, don't." The voice was as muffled as my vision was.

I spun again, looking for the speaker, but I once again couldn't find anyone, just two places in the forest where I couldn't quite focus.

I turned back towards the shadowy figure and continued my journey. As I got closer to the shadow it morphed into two shadows – side by side.

A few steps closer and I finally made out one singular feature on the second shadow, the one I hadn't originally been able to see, and that feature was long, curly red hair. My breath caught in my throat because I knew who the shadows had to be. Victoria and James. It wasn't possible because James was dead, but I _knew_ it had to be true.

I tried to take a step back, but was completely unable to. Instead, my feet continued to push me forward without my permission.

Just as windblown copper locks came into view both turned to face me and as they did it wasn't James and Victoria looking at me. Instead it was Edward and a woman I'd never seen before – her hair turning from red to deep brown as she spun to face me. Edward's eyes were bright red.

Just then a small pink stone on the forest floor caught my eye as it flashed a bright pinkish white light, completely blinding me.

. . .

I woke with a start, breathing hard as I noted immediately Edward was missing. I got up slowly, trying to make sense of the strange dream I'd just had and not understanding a bit of it. Finally, I got ready for another day of school and headed downstairs.

Edward was waiting for me at school, as usual, but his face was still wrong. There was something buried in his eyes that I couldn't be sure of – and it scared me. I didn't want to bring up last night, but I wasn't sure if avoiding the subject would be worse.

He opened my door for me.

"How do you feel?"

"Perfect," I lied. The truth was my hands were still stinging miserably and the dream I'd had left me with a headache that was exasperated as he slammed the truck door shut.

We walked in silence, he shortening his stride to match mine. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but most of those questions would have to wait, because they were for Alice: What had they said when I was gone? Could she guess what Edward was thinking? Why he was so gloomy? Was there a foundation for the tenuous, instinctive fears that I couldn't seem to shake? And most importantly, what could she see happening now in her strange, imperfect visions of the future?

The morning passed slowly. I was impatient to see Alice, though I wouldn't be able to really talk to her with Edward there. Edward remained aloof. Occasionally he would ask about my hands in our walks between my classes, and each time I would lie.

However, when Edward met me after my fifth period and took me to eat lunch in the cafeteria, none of Edward's siblings were at their normal table.

I turned to look at him in shock. "Where's your family?"

"Jasper needed to take off for awhile, Alice went with him, and Rosalie and Emmett needed to hunt after last night." His words were calm, with no inflection of any kind.

"Where did Alice and Jasper go?" I'd wanted to see him so he'd at least be able to feel that I didn't blame him for what happened even if we didn't actually talk.

Edward shrugged. "Nowhere in particular."

I swallowed, looking down and blinking back tears. My gut churned in pain. I didn't need anything more to recognize the writing on the wall. When we reached our normal table, I sat down and immediately put my head down, unable to stomach the thought of even trying to eat.

"Are your hands bothering you?" he asked solicitously.

"Who cares about my stupid hands?" I muttered in disgust.

He didn't answer.

By the end of the day I knew I was going to call Karen and ask for the night off, with my hands wrapped and still stinging in pain, there was no way I'd be effective trying to stock or even ring people up. But the real reason I would be calling in was because of the gnawing fear in my stomach. I knew I wouldn't be able to focus on anything until I either put it to rest, or I confirmed the worst.

"You'll come over tonight?" I asked as he walked me – silently – to my truck. He always came over.

"Don't you have to work?"

"I don't think I'll be very effective doing anything. I'm going to call her and take tonight off." I didn't specifically state my hands were the problem, but I was sure he got it.

"Oh," he murmured.

"So you'll come over?" I hated that I was asking him because part of me really wanted to put my head in the sand, but I had to know – right or wrong.

"If you want me to."

"I always want you," I reminded him, with perhaps a little more intensity than the conversation required.

I expected he would laugh, or smile, or react somehow to my words.

"All right, then," he said indifferently.

He kissed my forehead again before he shut the door on me. Then he turned his back and loped gracefully toward his car.

I wanted to be wrong, but everything about his indifference told me I was right. I drove home silently, still not using the radio that had been installed.

When I got home, I didn't bother going inside to call Karen Newton. There was a small part of me which felt bad about that, because I knew it would worry her when I didn't show up for work, but the larger part of me simply didn't care.

Instead, I got out of my truck and waited for Edward to arrive – the fact that he hadn't beat me to my house or at the very least pulled up at the same time was telling in and of itself.

I'd probably been standing next to my truck for five minutes before he pulled up out front. The instant his engine was shut off and he was out of his car I started to talk.

"It's over, isn't it?" I'd spent enough time with the gut churning fear throughout the day, the memory from the dream last night, the strangeness of Edward's kiss last night, and even Alice's obvious lie when I questioned her last night to know I had to be right. But I wanted him to deny it.

"Come for a walk with me," he suggested in an unemotional voice instead as he came over and took my hand.

I didn't answer as my churning fear started swirling. Edward hadn't denied it.

He pulled me along toward the east side of the yard, where the forest encroached. I followed unwillingly, trying to think through the panic, and prepare myself for what I knew was to come. It was over. We were over.

We'd gone only a few steps into the trees when he stopped. We were barely on the trail. I could still see my house.

Some walk.

Edward leaned against a tree and stared at me, his expression unreadable.

"Okay, let's hear it," I said. It sounded braver than I felt.

He took a deep breath.

"Bella, we're leaving."

My brow furrowed. They'd only been in Forks just over a year, had Jasper gone out and killed someone after what happened with me at their house? Was that why no one had really been at school? "Why now?"

"Bella, it's time. Carlisle can barely pass for thirty, and he's claiming thirty-two now. We'd have to start over soon regardless." He stared at me coldly.

What he was saying didn't make sense, they'd moved around often enough with a general plan to usually stay about a decade that Carlisle's age shouldn't be a factor. I finally shook my head.

"My family already left, they're waiting for me to join them." Each word separate and distinct.

I shook my head back and forth mechanically, trying to clear it. He waited without any sign of impatience. It took a few minutes before I could speak.

"Okay," I said. "I could come with you?" I hated the way it came out like a question, but even though my gut told me he was telling me – and had been telling me since last night – that we were through, he hadn't said the words yet. And I seriously wanted to be reading the signs wrong.

"You can't, Bella. Where we're going... It's not the right place for you."

"Where you are is the right place for me."

"I'm no good for you, Bella."

"Don't be ridiculous." I wanted to sound angry, but it just sounded like I was begging. "You're the very best part of my life." It was true, even if he didn't realize it.

"My world is not for you," he said grimly.

"What happened with Jasper – that was nothing, Edward! Nothing!"

"You're right," he agreed. "It was exactly what was to be expected."

"You promised! In Portland, you promised that you would stay –"

"As long as that was best for you," he interrupted to correct me.

"Don't do this, Edward, please." Every argument I could think of in my head wasn't enough given what Carlisle had told me last night, because even though I wouldn't have the issue Edward had with it if our positions were reversed, I could understand his problem with it. "I won't mention you turning me again." It was the biggest thing I could offer him since it had been the largest impasse for us for months.

"Bella, I don't want you." His words were cold.

Even though I'd been expecting something like it, it still came as a physical blow and I took a pained step back. "That... changes things."

He looked away into the trees as he spoke again. "Of course, I'll always love you... in a way. But what happened the other night made me realize that it's time for a change. Because I'm... _tired_ of pretending to be something I'm not, Bella. I am not human." He looked back, and the icy planes of his perfect face were _not_ human. "I've let this go on much too long, and I'm sorry for that."

"Don't." My voice was just a whisper as I took another step back, going deeper into the forest. "Please, don't do this."

He just stared at me, and I could see from his eyes that my words were far too late, as I'd been suspecting since lunch. He already had.

"You're not good for me, Bella."

I swallowed, stepping even farther back.

"If... that's what you want."

He nodded once.

My whole body was numb. I couldn't feel anything. Part of me was surprised my legs hadn't given out on me under the weight of what he was saying.

"I would like to ask one favor, though, if that's not too much," he said.

I wondered what he saw on my face, because something flickered across his own face in response. But, before I could identify it, he'd composed his features into the same serene mask.

"Anything," I vowed, my voice faintly stronger.

As I watched, his frozen eyes melted. The gold became liquid again, molten, burning down into mine with an intensity that was overwhelming.

"Don't do anything reckless or stupid," he ordered, no longer detached. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I nodded helplessly.

His eyes cooled, the distance returned. "I'm thinking of Charlie, of course. He needs you. Take care of yourself – for him."

I nodded again. "I will," I whispered.

He seemed to relax just a little.

"And I'll make you a promise in return," he said.

"Don't." I cut him off. "Don't promise me anything. Just answer me one question honestly. Just once."

"What?" he asked, stiffly.

"Was any of it ever real?"

There was a moment of complete silence as I waited for his answer. I needed to know the last year with him hadn't been a lie. I needed to know that it was fear, stress or some other reaction that had brought this on. And I needed to know that I hadn't actually done the exact the same thing my father had done – needed to know I hadn't given my heart to a person too immature to ever possibly return it.

"No." The word was colder than ice.

The world stopped spinning as everything crashed around me. I closed my eyes, swaying slightly on my feet.

"Don't worry. You're human – your memory is no more than a sieve. Time heals all wounds for your kind."

I wasn't ready to hear that... I was pretty sure I would never be.

"Actually, I changed my mind. I want you to promise me that you'll someday find whoever it is that completes you. That you won't give up. Because it's worth it." Well, at least until the floor was stolen out from under you. But I had to hope when he finally gave up his heart, it would end better for him than it was for me – than it had for Charlie.

"Bella –" the slightest break from the cold veneer in Edward's voice made me open my eyes.

As I stared at him, I stiffened my spine as best I could while my entire universe was shredding the back of my mind. "And whatever you do, don't come back."

The briefest amount pain flashed across his eyes before they returned to being distant. "Yes." His voice was cold again.

"Good," I barely mouthed the word.

"Goodbye, Bella." He turned and headed back toward his car.

For a moment I stood and did nothing before I finally spun and raced deeper into the forest, quickly heading past the small clearing where the fox lived. Tears were streaming down my face as I ran, forcing my legs to move faster than I ever had before, trying to breath through the agony but being completely unable to.

Finally my foot ran into a root or something and it threw me forward.

Everything went black.

* * *

 **AN:** The next two to three chapters will be showing the depression, grieving and pain that Bella's going through so there won't be any five month gap here where your left wondering what brought about the fifteen chapters of wallowing almost a half year later (or that's ho I often felt about New Moon anyways), though my story is going to ultimately take a different route than the wallowing.


End file.
